


Schmetterling

by Idreamt_once



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe-Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Slow Build, Smut, What Have I Done, mafia, smol baekhyun on the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idreamt_once/pseuds/Idreamt_once
Summary: Baekhyun was only 10 when he'd lost everything; his estate, his inheritance, his parents, and his little sister, destroyed in a fire.    A fight and a meeting later, Baekhyun's caught in a trap between saving his boss (and maybe the love of his life) and saving his own life. Slightly annoying but fiercely intelligent and loyal, Baekhyun finds himself getting tangled in the drama that are the Royal Courts, and maybe looking for things that might not exist; a lost girl, a lover, a childhood friend, and someone who wants him dead.





	1. Memories like Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm decently new at this, so please don't judge me too hard. I am horrible at not boasting about people, so if they seem a bit unrealistic as characters, I'm sorry. I'm going to try to update weekly. I'll also keep it short, since long fics tend to get boring. Thanks guys!

[Baekhyun]

Baekhyun’s legs hurt. His hand was numb from how tightly Mijun was gripping his hand. His sister hadn’t let him go since they started to run, away from their burning mansion, off their estate, and into the slums of the city. His little legs couldn’t keep up with hers anymore, they’d been running for an hour. Mijun pulled him around the corner, and she stopped, sitting on the ground, elegantly folding her legs up. Baekhyun collapsed on the ground, chest heaving, body sore and tired. And then the tears came.

            He cried for the loss of everything he’d known, the green grass, the pretty flower beds, the house that was big but cozy, filled with the laughter of his sisters and parents. He loved the way their mother’s eyes lit up when their father came home every day at 6 o’clock sharp. He loved the way that Mijun always snuck food from the dinner table into her room to eat. He loved the way that Mina pulled her pranks on him, putting cornbread into his sheets to make it a corn _bed_.

            Shit. Mina. Baekhyun’s little sister. The tears come rolling down harder, and he started to hiccup. Mijun, the oldest of the family, had just turned sixteen. Baekhyun was ten, and his little sister, sweet little Mina, was six. He loved them all. But the house had been set on fire. Mijun only had time to pull Baekhyun out of bed, hand him shoes and a coat, before the West wing started to collapse. Mina and their parent’s rooms were in the East wing, and when they’d managed to make it over there, it was too late. The East wing must have been on fire first, since the ornate doors had already burned, the beautiful wallpaper turned to a crisp. Mijun was logical and didn’t waste a single minute. She grabbed his hand and ran. None of them said a word.

            “It’s going to be okay,” Mijun says, her voice soft but strong, “I’ll take care of you.” Baekhyun looked up at his sister. Her brown hair was matted down with ash, dirt, and sweat. Her once-rosy cheeks shone with unhealthy pallor. Her lips, once like rose petals, had chapped, bled, and now the dried blood clung to her lips. Her dark eyes, however, were still bright, and though there was sadness, there was also something else. Determination.

[Mijun]

The sun rose in over the horizon. Mijun shifted, watching her little brother sleep. He looked so much like their father, like the rest of the family, but his eyes were different. His beautiful eyes slanted slightly down, making him look like a sad puppy all the time. _Like a sad puppy_ , Mijun thought, and suddenly, tears sprang to her eyes, _That’s what Nana would have said, I’m so sorry, Mina, I’m so sorry._ In her lap, Baekhyun stirred, as if sensing his sister’s despair. He blinks, eyes still swollen from crying. When his vision clears, he sees Mijun smiling down at him, eyes sad, but filled with hope.

            He follows as she walks down the street, and turns the corner. After walking a couple blocks, the pain returns to his legs. Mijun pays no heed as she steps into a bank. Baekhyun is still too small to see over the counter, but he can tell Mijun isn’t making progress.

            “The Byuns? There aren’t any with the last name of ‘Byun’ in our records,” the teller tells Mijun.

            “How is that possible? My father was a royal advisor, how is that possible?” Mijun asks, her voice rising. She, like their mother, tended to get angry instead of stepping down in defeat.

            “Oh...Are you talking about Heechul and Soomin Byun?” the teller frowns. “I certainly know of them, but their records were deleted---” The teller taps at his computer.

            “When?” Mijun asks, almost frantic. She needs to know where the fortune went.

            “Two days ago,” replies the teller. Mijun gasps. A strange look comes into her eyes. She thanks the teller and leads Baekhyun out.

            “What happened? Where’s Mommy and Daddy?” Baekhyun asks, questions in his eyes.

            “Not here,” Mijun says, leading him away. When they turn the corner to a smaller street. Mijun stops, and turns, holding both of Baekhyun’s small hands in her own.

            “Baekhyun, I need you to be brave, okay?” she says, eyes beginning to swim with tears. Baekhyun notices, but simply nods. Mijun blinks back her tears but talks with a steady voice.

            “Baekhyun, you heard what the bank man said. Mommy and Daddy’s bank account was deleted two days ago. If Mommy and Daddy had done something with the money, I would have known, Baekhyun,” Mijun starts, “But I don’t, which means that someone did this for them,”. Baekhyun nods, slowly following along.

            “Who could do that, Mijun?” Baekhyun asks. Mijun sighs.

            “If I’m right, and I hope I’m not, then the Palace did something to this.” Baekhyun gasps.

            “Why would they do such a thing? Wasn’t Daddy a good person?” Baekhyun asks, eyes threatening to spill with tears.

            “Yes, Hyunnie, Daddy was a good person. I need you to be strong now, okay? I’m going to tell you something that you can’t tell anyone. Nobody. Understand?” Mijun says, voice now dangerously low and quiet. Baekhyun nods, tears finally beginning to slip down his rosy cheeks.

            “I think,” Mijun starts, “I think—that someone wanted Mommy and Daddy gone.” Baekhyun’s tears now flow freely. His face is still neutral, but his eyes betray his emotions.

            “It’s the Palace, isn’t it?” Baekhyun whispers, catching on. If the Palace was the only source capable enough to dissolve a bank account without the owner’s consent, and it was done only two days before the fire, then…

            “Daddy didn’t do anything wrong, did he?” Baekhyun asks, suddenly unsure of the father he had known his entire life. His father was always warm and kind, and never put his work above his children. Mijun shakes her head.

            “Let’s go get you some food, okay?” Mijun takes his hand and walks down the street. Without their aristocratic clothing, Mijun and Baekhyun look just like any other pair of siblings.

            “We have no money, Mijun,” Baekhyun says, when he’s pulled into a bakery. Mijun smiles at him.

            “You’ll see,” Mijun says, “Pick something.” Baekhyun picks his favorite shredded pork bun. Mijun grabs a taro cake, and with cash she pulled out of her coat pocket, pays for the bread. She leads Baekhyun out of the shop, and they sit on a bench outside to eat their bread.

            “It’s my wallet,” Mijun explains upon seeing Baekhyun’s question in his eyes, “Mommy and Daddy don’t know that I have money. I taught little kids at my school, and their parents payed me for it.” Baekhyun noticed that she hadn’t said “didn’t” for their parents. She, like him, were hoping that they were alive.

            “How much do you have left?” Baekhyun asks, unwrapping the bag to get his bun. He hands Mijun her taro cake, and sits down on the bench, watching her rummage her coat pocket.

            “Enough to rent an apartment for a month,” she said, “I grabbed my all of my stashed while you were putting on your shoes.” Baekhyun nods, and after finally getting the bun unwrapped, he bites into it.

            It tastes like memories. Memories and hopes. Baekhyun closes his eyes and lets his thoughts flow. Suddenly, he’s no longer in the park next to Mijun. He’s four years old again. He and his mother used to come to the bakery by his school. His mother would buy a coffee and he would always buy the shredded pork bun, and his mother would drop him off at school with a warm bun in his hands. Later, when his mother became pregnant with Mina, it was always Mijun that took him to the bakery, and she would drop him off at his school before heading to her school. Mijun and Baekhyun never went to the same school, but the teachers all knew of Mijun Byun. She was the top of her class. She even managed to finish History with full marks, something that the school hadn’t even seen before. Mijun left insanely high expectations for Baekhyun, who took those up easily. Baekhyun skipped a grade, and despite only being ten years old, he could solve math problems quickly in his head. The most he’d done was six three-digit numbers and four decimals at once. It had taken him fifteen seconds, ten longer than usual, but he was the youngest in his math class at the time and everyone else was at least fifteen, and everyone was staring at him. Nonetheless, when he said his answer, the teacher looked up, clearly not expecting him to answer. Upon typing it into a calculator, she then acknowledged that Baekhyun was truly a chip of the old block of Mijun. Mijun’s talent, however, wasn’t with math. She could read a book, they say, and recite the book word for word. She had what was called “Eidetic memory”, more commonly known as “photographic memory”. Both Byun kids were prodigies, and only Mina had seemed to show even slightly normal behavior. That is, until she was three. Baekhyun loved the piano. He was good, and probably even masterful. Mina had liked to watch him play. 

 

_“Lemme play.” Mina said one day, eyes twinkling. Baekhyun laughed, and moved over so that Mina could manage middle C. She looked at the keyboard and hit the note._

_“This is middle C, right?” she looked at Baekhyun, who nodded, and she smiled. “Do they go in order?” She put her small fingers on the F above middle C and looked at Baekhyun questioningly._

_“That’s F,” Baekhyun said gently. Mina smiled._

_"Can you teach me?" Mina asked, curiousity in her small voice. Baekhyun plays a two-octave chromatic scale, saying each note as he plays. Mina stares at his fingers on the piano, nodding to each note._

_"Do they always repeat?" Mina asks._

_"Yes, and those repeated notes sound the same when played together," Baekhyun plays for C's, "See how it sounds like one note?" Baekhyun slides to the left on the bench. Mina shuffles closer, and hits random keys, staring at them happily._

_“Okay, your turn” Mina said, moving over so Baekhyun could play the piano again. He flipped the page of Nocturne and started to play. When he hit the third line, he noticed Mina with her eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips. He stopped playing to see if she had fallen asleep. As soon as he stopped, Mina’s eyes flew open._

_“Ready, Hyunnie? I can sing it.” Mina said. She opened her mouth and sang the melody. Pitch-for-pitch. She matched every pitch on the dot. Baekhyun started at her with wide eyes._

_“Wow, Mina, you can sing!” He shouts. Mina starts to laugh. Their mother comes running in at Baekhyun’s shout, and upon seeing her children laughing, she relaxes._

_“Look, Mommy!” Baekhyun said, running up to her to tug on her sleeve, “Mina can sing!”_

_“That’s wonderful, sweetie,” Soomin Byun says, “Can I hear it?” Mina smiles, happy to impress her mother. She starts to sing again. Pitch-by-pitch matching the piano. Their mother was delighted._

_“Mina, honey, that’s impressive!” their mother leans in to give them both a hug._

_“I love—”_

 

Baekhyun’s eyes snap open. The memory fades, and once again, he’s on a cold, hard bench, next to Mijun, who is looking at him.

            “You okay?” she asks quietly, crunching up the wrapper of her finished taro cake. Baekhyun looks down at his half-eaten bun, and wolfs it down, deciding to ignore the memories and the tears that came flooding. Mijun stands and takes his hands.


	2. Raise the Sail

Ten Years Later

* * *

* * *

 

 

[Baekhyun]    

Baekhyun blinks his sleepy eyes open. He groans and sits up. He quickly puts on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and heads off to the bathroom. He muses at his appearance in the mirror. His hair grew long again, he needs another cut. His face had grown out of it’s roundness and became defined with sharper angles. His body went from a little kid to that of a trained fighter, strong and lithe. He wanders over to the kitchen table and flips on his phone. There’s a text from Mijun.

            **Hey Hyunnie, you up yet?**

            **Guess not.**

He sends a quick reply telling her that he’s up, also asking about her husband and his niece. Mijun had managed to find work at sixteen as an accountant, and eventually caught the eye of her company’s young heir. His brother-in-law had offered to give Baekhyun some money, but he politely declined, wanting Mijun to enjoy her life without him constantly being needy, as he was for six years. He wanders over to the TV and flips it on. Lazily stroking his hair back, Baekhyun nestles down into the couch, preparing to take a short nap. Suddenly, the TV starts to blare loudly. Groaning, he flicks his eyes up to the screen.

            **NEWS:** **Prince Yixing of Shanhui and Prince Kai of Seolim will be visiting their friend and ally, Crown Prince Chanyeol of Hanguk tomorrow in a public address to discuss possible future trade relations for the three countries.**

            Baekhyun sits up. He’s aware that Hanguk had princes, but what he wasn’t aware of was how young the Crown Prince was. Prince Chanyeol was perhaps his age, maybe just a little older. Baekhyun had always imagined the Crown Prince to be a greedy, mean, ugly kind of person, but the Prince he saw on the screen was none of those. The Crown Prince was tall, dark hair swept back, and had slight dimples each time he smiled, which was a lot. Pictures of the two foreign princes flashed on the screen. The one in bright red had beautiful deep dimples and kind eyes, a stark contrast to the one on the right with the black jacket and sharp jawline.

“Princes Yixing and Kai, huh? Interesting,” Baekhyun muses. His dislike for royalty made him turn off the TV and meander his way back to the kitchen. He grabbed a bowl and spoon, poured his cereal before his milk, and sat in silence. His phone buzzed again, and he flipped it open to reveal text messages from Mijun.

**Hey Hyunnie, you up yet?**

**Guess not.**

**I’m up.**

**How’s the hubby?**

**What about little Mila?**

**He’s busy, as usual**

**Mila is great. She’s gotten annoying.**

            Attached is a picture of little Mila. The little girl’s face is bright, and her eyes are like her mother’s. Despite only being a year old, Mila is already talking almost fluently, and she likes to use “big girl words” like “somnambulist”, “recherche”, and “Baekhyun”. His phone buzzes again, and this time, it’s a video of Mila knocking her food over and laughing. Her laughter is so similar to Mina’s that Baekhyun feels a pang in his heart, and tears threaten to spill over. Mila is Mina’s namesake, although Mijun made subtle differences, Baekhyun could tell that Mijun intended this. Baekhyun’s thoughts trail off, before realizing that his cereal was almost soggy before wolfing it down and washing the bowl in the sink. He puts on some music, slouches back to his bedroom, and picks up some of the clothes, throwing them into this washing machine. All the meanwhile, his thoughts go to his late sister. Mina would be about seventeen now. Baekhyun wondered if she’d look more like Mijun, with her doll-faced beauty, or more like their mother, who looked mature and thoughtful. Gripping tight the pendant he had around his neck, the last gift from his father, he shakes his thoughts away, shoving the remaining clothes back into his closet.

            When dusk rolled around, Baekhyun had changed out of his casual gear for a pair of black pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, a pair of light sneakers, and his usual cap and mask. It was still early spring, but Baekhyun ditched the coat in favor of running to the club.

            “Hey Hyun, What’s up?” Baekhyun turned and was face-to-face with a boy with cat-like eyes.

            “Minseok, not much. Anyone got a fight?” Baekhyun asked, hands itching to feel the familiar feeling of hitting skin and breaking bone. Not that he loved fighting, but it was his main source of income, after all. Underground fight club was more fun than it sounds, but Baekhyun had made a name for himself under the pseudonym Hyun. Minseok was his only friend here, and Baekhyun only knew him because after his first couple of fights, it was Minseok who took him to his own house and bandaged him up. Minseok’s home was also where Baekhyun learned to properly fight, how to maintain his stance, how to kick, but most importantly, how to take a punch. Minseok was twenty-three, three years older than Baekhyun, but Minseok looked like he was thirteen, if not for the ripples of muscle beneath his loose-fitting tee. Minseok was an instructor, along with Tao, of martial arts. It was originally Tao’s idea, according to Minseok, to take their trainees and test their skills in these fight clubs, but Tao quickly got too caught up on the gambling to actually pay attention.

            “Hyun,” Minseok said, “Maybe you shouldn’t fight today, there’s a new guy…” He trails off. Baekhyun looks up at the ring, interested. He knew that he was easily the best here, despite being the smallest, but he was quick, and his attacks were sharp and strong, and they never missed their mark.

            “Where?” Baekhyun asks. Minseok’s eyes widen.

            “You aren’t going to fight him, right?” Minseok asks, worry in his tone. “He’s clearly been put through some training, probably even more than the typical martial artist. I’m guessing maybe mafia, assassin, or a guard captain that has trailed off his honor.”

            “Hmm…” Baekhyun considers this person very carefully. He knew that a portion of the bets that the club collects goes to him, but he also knows that he has a reputation to uphold. If he gets beat for the first time in two years, his money would drop significantly. Minseok leads him to a corner of the musty room and sits him down, before handing him a sealed water bottle.

            “Can’t have you drinking mystery punch,” Minseok says in a teasing tone, but Baekhyun knows that Minseok genuinely cares about him. Baekhyun was Minseok’s unintentional student, but Baekhyun was also his best. Baekhyun accepts the water bottle and sips it, before turning his attention to the ring.

            The new guy is certainly skilled, but he’s blunt force, Baekhyun gathers. His attacks are meant to be strong and powerful, but he’s not terribly quick on his feet, or in his mind, for that matter. However, the new guy does manage to beat out many of the regular contenders, and Baekhyun’s interest perks up a bit when the fifth person in a row is floored. When the sixth person surrenders, Baekhyun decides to show face. He knows that they’ve been expecting the famous Hyun to show up somewhere, but just as he’s about to challenge, a voice speaks up.

            “Can I challenge?” The crowd parts for the voice. It’s a girl with a similar outfit to Baekhyun’s, except that her long legs are efficiently shown off in tight pants. Leggings. However, he notices as she walks up to the ring, she’s wearing heeled boots. 4-inch heels. The crowd begins to mock her

            “He’s not your type of man, little girl,”

            “If you lose, can I bet a night with you?”

            “Don’t beat her up too bad, I want some time with her later!”

            Next to him, Baekhyun feels Minseok stiffen.

            “This ends poorly, yeah?” Baekhyun asks. Minseok shakes his head.

            “This ends poorly for the man,” Minseok replies, leaving Baekhyun perplexed. He doesn’t have time to ask Minseok what he means, because then the gong sounds.

           

 

            Baekhyun watches as the man smiles at the girl.

            “You can still back out now, sweetie, I’ll let you go this time,” he says, but the girl doesn’t blink. Instead, she rolls out her shoulders, and stretches out her arms. That’s when Baekhyun notices that she’s wearing gloves. Black gloves. She’s wearing so much black that the only part of her that shows is the bottom half of her face. She’s smirking.

            “Yes,” she said, voice now loud and clear, “You can still back out now, Jonathan, and I’ll still let you,” The man takes a step back, clearly shocked at her use of his name. She chooses this moment to strike, landing a punch to his stomach. When the man doubles over, she meets his face with a raised knee, crushing his nose. He stumbles back a few steps with blood running from his nose. He growls and balls his fists up. She stands on the opposite side, casually watching his anger, and smiles, which only makes him angrier. He launches himself at her, throwing a missed punch and attempting a sweep when she _jumps over_ his leg. The crowd gasps as the girl effectively lands her front tuck, _in high heels_. The man is also surprised, but he comes back with another attack that meets the girl’s forearms. At the same time, her hand is suddenly behind his neck, and the next moment, he’s in a headlock.

            “Gave up so easily, huh?” the girl says to him, loud enough for everyone to hear. The crowd is silent, and Baekhyun watches as the girl gives the man a rough shove, pushing him off the platform.

            “This is why, Baekhyun,” Minseok says quietly to him, “She’s like you, small but quick, and he’s already shown each of his skills in the previous battles, whereas none of us have ever seen her before. All the advantages were on her side.” Baekhyun nods at Minseok’s analysis. Then another challenger steps forward. He’s clearly from the same group as the previous man, because they wear similar clothes. He looks at the girl.

            “Care to fight?” He asks her, inviting her to fight again. She shakes her head.

            “Nope, I’m out” she says, bounding off the platform as the crowd shouts at her.

            “You can’t just leave like that!”

            “You gotta finish the fight!”

            At this, the girl turns around, and from somewhere in her clothing, whips out a knife and throws it at the man who just shouted. The knife nails him below the ear, cutting off a chunk of hair. The crowd goes dead silent again, and she speaks.

            “No, I don’t “gotta” do anything, thank you very much,” she says, and saunters out of the club. Some people go to chase after her, but Baekhyun’s attention is already on the board of values. The girl’s value has just appeared on the board.

 

Rank                Name             Last Fight                        Worth

 1                       Hyun            March 6                        600 Notes

2                    Minseok           March 7                        550 Notes

  3                       SH                March 8                         400 Notes

4                           J                 March 8                          310 Notes

 

            Hyun is first, of course, Baekhyun’s ranking hasn’t changed a bit. Neither did Minseok’s, who’s second place is still strong. But the new entries are what catches his eye. SH must have been the girl, since Jonathon’s goons were already fawning over the fourth-place ranking. Then, another group of men walk in, all wearing blue. Similar to Jonathon in build, but the leader of this new group, who’s wearing a darker blue, seems more calculating than Jonathon. He saunters up to the platform right away, allowing his men to wander around. Baekhyun watches as he stretches showily to the crowd, and Baekhyun could see the muscles underneath. When the fight-tender asks him for an opponent, he looks around the club.

            “Him. I want to fight him,” the dark-blue shirt man says, pointing to Baekhyun. Baekhyun catches Minseok’s eye, who nods at him to continue as the crowd chants his name

            “Hyun! Hyun! Hyun!” Baekhyun doesn’t talk, he never has, for fear of someone recognizing his voice. He holds a hand up, and the crowd quiets immediately. He looks to the man in the dark-blue, and the crowd parts, waiting for him. He walks up to the platform silently, eyeing his opponent. He holds up a finger, giving the universal “wait up” sign as he stretches his muscles. He knows the result of not stretching the hard way, it was almost too difficult for him to even walk for a week afterwards. When he’s done, he nods at the fight-tender, who is calling for people to make last minute bets. He sees Minseok place a bet at the counter for him. He and Minseok always bet each other, not only to increase their value, but also because they know that they’ll win it back. He looks his opponent up and down. What the crowd doesn’t know is that this is Baekhyun Byun. He already calculated the approximate weight of the fists, and at what approximate velocity they could possibly travel at, and obviously, the weight of the man and his range. Baekhyun notices the man’s tells even before he fights, like the subtle rise of his chest that is always followed by a twitch of his arms, or the way he looks downwards before he shifts his weight. This will come in handy in the fight. Baekhyun maintains perfect stillness, desperate not to let his own weaknesses show. He chooses to look up at the fight-tender, who is just wrapping up the bets and is moving to his place on the platform, surrounded by safety ropes. He raises his gong.

            “Ready fighters?” He asks, voice shrill with excitement. Dark-blue man takes a stance, and Baekhyun recognizes it immediately. Baekhyun decides to stay standing. The fight-tender strikes his gong, and as soon as the mallet strikes the gong, the dark-blue man moves.

            He’s fast, Baekhyun gives the man credit, but clearly not as fast as Baekhyun. Not even as fast as the girl before. He easily dodges the first punch, and shuffles to the other side of the ring. The man spins around with a back-roundhouse kick, which Baekhyun blocks easily. Baekhyun decides that he’s going to watch the man tire himself out before he actually delivers his attack. Too late, too much thinking, as the next punch from the man catches him in the stomach. Baekhyun takes a step back, determined not to let it break his concentration. Baekhyun aims a kick at the man’s stomach, and to his surprise, the man grabs his foot. Not fast enough for Baekhyun though, as he jumps up, swinging his other foot around to meet the man’s temple. The man abruptly lets his foot go, but Baekhyun lands on the side of his butt. Baekhyun picks himself up with no hesitation and tries to ignore the developing bruise on his ass right now. The dark-blue man seems a bit dazed, but none the less gets back up. It only takes Baekhyun four punches the put the man back down again. This time, when he gets up, his hands are in the air in surrender. The crown cheers for Hyun, and Baekhyun steps down from the platform, and walks to Minseok.

            “I’m done tonight,” Baekhyun tells Minseok. The older man nods and calls off the challenge awaiting. He rushes back to Baekhyun, who drinks greedily from his water bottle.

            “Let’s go home,” Minseok says, taking Baekhyun’s hand and leading him outside. Minseok walks Baekhyun back to his apartment and leaves for his own home. Baekhyun fumbles with his keys, still standing lopsided from the pain on his ass. When he finally gets into his apartment, he locks the door again, takes a quick shower, and crashes into his bed, and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that there's such a huge time jump. I really wanted to show a young Baekhyun, so I included it. Maybe I should instead make that a preface? Hmm...


	3. You Shine like the Stars

[Shanhong]

“Shit,” Shanhong mutters, foot stepping in another puddle. She knows that her boots tonight are probably ruined, but it was honestly worth it. She hadn’t had this much fun kicking someone’s ass since she started to live in the palace. She glances back to see if any of those strange men had followed her into the main streets, but they hadn’t. Her hand wanders to the twin fighting knives against her shin. She’s gotten more attached to the knives than she has to any person. Well, maybe except one person. She’ll throw her beloved knives away any day if it meant that she could save Yixing, her betrothed. She sprints back to the palace gates and scales the walls easily. _They should really keep more guards where there’s convenient vines and shrubbery._ She recalls the mental map of the palace, and groans. Yixing’s room is on the other side of the palace. She runs along the top of the wall, feet silent despite the heels she was wearing. She silently thanked the heavens for Yixing putting on little cotton pads at the bottom of her shoes to swallow the sound. He was so thoughtful. She hated to cause him extra work, but it was not her fault that being a princess meant that she couldn’t wear combat boots, but she dealt with it. She slows down, catches her breath, and watches, crouched beneath a tower on a stone ledge. 

            “I swear I saw someone on the wall,” a guard says. Shanhong keeps her eyes glued to the shadow of the men on the ground. One is moving around, pacing, and the other is still by the lookout window. When the pacing suddenly stops, Shanhong almost falls off her ledge. at the voice.

            “Then shoot him down next time,” the voice is low and quiet, but the commanding tone sends shivers down Shanhong’s spine. It’s Prince Kai.  

            Her mind immediately begins to race. _What is Prince Kai doing out here on such a late night? It’s closer to dawn than it is to the previous nightfall. What is he planning? There’s no way a Prince could have just “wandered” here, right? Surely Seolim has its fair share of walls?_ One thought halts all the others in their tracks. _Yixing?_

            Deciding not to hesitate, Shanhong gets out of her crouched position on the teetering ledge and looks around. Coast is clear. She gingerly places a foot back onto the 6-inch width of the wall and starts to run again. She’s almost to the West Face when it sounds.

            _Thwang. Ziiiiip._

            “Shit” Shanhong mutters as the arrow narrowly misses her neck. Shanhong picks up her pace, keen on getting back to the West Tower. Her ears are tuned to the sound again, her feet quickening, but stumbles a little at a loose rock in the wall.

            In the watchtower, Kai muses at the figure. It was fast, but he never misses. The fact that the figure hasn’t collapsed yet means that he missed. He grumbles.

            “Give me another one,” Kai mutters to his guard. Kai notches the arrow, aims, and lets the poisoned arrow fly, becoming one with the wind. Shanhong hears this one coming. She can tell by the pitch of the arrow that it’s velocity is fast enough to run through her chest. She drops into a barrel roll and hops off the wall.

            “Shit” she mutters again, feet slamming into the stone path, “Mental note: Never jump off a ten-foot wall in the dark." She stumbles a little, "and definitely not with heels." She just wrecked her knees and probably will bruise her ankles just for the sake if it, but it’s better than being shot down by an arrow. She spares a moment to look over her shoulder, and limps towards the West doors. Yixing’s lights are still on, and Shanhong hurries up the steps, trying to conceal her limp as much as possible. She pushed open the door to a very angry husband-to-be.

            “Well well well, where were you, young lady?” Yixing asks, voice stern. Shanhong is rebellious, but she’s always nursed a soft spot for Yixing.

            “I was…uh…”

            “You were where?”

            “In..the city! I was in the city!” Shanhong blurts. Technically not wrong, as she was in the city, but not the whole truth, and certainly nothing about that person she had seen in the club that gave her deja vu. 

            “Uh-huh.” Came the reply. Shanhong peels off her boots and jacket, tossing them on a chair, before heading to the bathroom to shower.

            “Why are you limping?” Yixing asks, concern in his voice. _Shit, forgot to hide it._

            “I—tripped.” She mutters under her breath.

            “No, you don’t trip. Lemme see that,” Yixing says, grabbing her wrist. She cries out in pain. Yixing’s eyes go wide.

            “You’ve been fighting,”

            “Yeah, I’m sorry Xingy, I’ll—”

            “Shan-a, what did Mother say about you picking fights?”

            “ ‘Unless it was for the safety of the country or for the safety of your Prince, Shanhong is not allowed to pick a fight, or fight anyone else, for that matter.’” Shanhong recites, “But Xingy—”

            “No. Go shower and sleep, Shan-a. I don’t want to hear it,” Yixing’s words strike her hard in the gut. She sighs, trying to stop the heat gathering behind her eyes, and rushes to the bathroom to hide her tears. She’s head-over-heels for him. Can’t he tell? Why does he keep hurting her? Does he even know he’s constantly torturing her? Whatever. They’re going to end up together anyway.

            She runs the water hot, letting it scald her skin, hoping it would be enough to wash away the dirt and grime of the club. Her thoughts drift off the man that fought her. Jonathon, Captain of the Guard. He’s Prince Kai’s guard, technically, but he was so easily beat! If the Captain fought so carelessly, what is the rest of the guard doing? She turns off the shower and pulls on her nightgown. Her hair hangs straight and loose after drying and peeks her head out of the bathroom. Yixing left the night-light on for her, and he had already tucked himself into his bed. _He is so beautiful when he sleeps,_ Shanhong thinks, walking over to her own bed, and plopping down. Indeed, Yixing’s face was relaxed, an expression that he almost never wore as Prince. His eyebrow creases were gone, and with that, he looked more like his age, nineteen, instead of the middle-aged-man look that usually accompanied him when he was stressed, which was most of the time. She sighs, making an effort not the look at him again, pulling the sheets over and falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

            Yixing looks over at her. She’s certainly pretty, but he loves her the most when she’s about to fight someone, or when she’s planning. The light that dances in her eyes when she’s fighting is what caught Yixing’s eye in the first place. It seemed so wild, so untamed, a stark contrast to her looks. The first time he saw her, when he was seventeen, it was almost love at first sight. She was with assassins then. She was supposed to warn her guild of any dangers, but instead, she was staring at the royal carriage, ignoring her earpiece. Her guild wasn’t the only one looking at the carriage. Yixing smiles as he recalls this part of the memory. A group of bandits had appeared, trying to take the riches of the royals. His guards had drawn their swords, but a few were already struck down. Shanhong hadn’t hesitated to jump from her ledge, landing on one of the bandits, crushing him beneath her weight. He had marveled at the purple blur, how fast the figure moved, how precise each slice of her knives was. When the danger was cleared, she knelt in front of the entourage, and held her hands up in front by way of greeting. She had turned away before he called to her.

          _“Wait!” His guard had looked at him. He remembers being upset at how he hadn’t even seen the face of the person that saved him. She either hadn’t heard, or ignored, since she kept walking._

_“Halt!” his guard yelled. Everyone in the street was already watching, and they parted for the figure again. Yixing climbed out of his carriage, and walked up to the figure, who was still._

_“I want to see the face of my savior,” Yixing announced and reached up to pull the hood back._

_“You really don’t, Your Highness,” she took a step back. The crowd gasped in shock.Who is this? Who dared to defy the Prince?_

_“But I really do,” he took another step forward, and this time, she didn’t step back. She had let him draw a hand up to the hood, and pulled it back, revealed long brown hair, soft lips, and her eyes. Her mis-matched eyes and their dancing fire. Her left eye was a deep blue, her right eye was a soft brown. Unless one was close enough, they looked the same. In that moment, Yixing knew that he had found his one and only._

_His mother wasn’t pleased with his choice of love, but she quickly softened when Shanhong proved to be skilled not just in killing. She knew poetry, was quick at arithmetic, could cook and take care of herself. Most importantly, Yixing reminded his mother that he could not fight, and it would be helpful to have someone close by to protect him. That had been the tipping point for his mother. Shanhong hadn’t said anything about Yixing’s lack of fighting skills, seeing that all the princes were taught self-defense, but didn’t ask questions. Yixing found that she already knew many of the rules of the court, and when he asked about it, she had simply shrugged._

_“You learn quite a few things when you have to blend in. This isn’t my first time in the Palace, Your Highness,” Shanhong said to Yixing. She smiled to the Queen, and curtsied before leaving the hall._

_“What do you mean?” Yixing asked, catching up to her._

_“The palaces are unbelievably easy to infiltrate,” Shanhong said simply._

_“What do you mean---wait. Palaces? Plural?”_

_“Seolim’s was the easiest, I remember that,” Shanhong said with a gleeful smile on her lips. “Hanguk’s had a convenient vine and it was between guard towers,”. Yixing looked at her in awe. She had smacked him lightly on his chest, leaning into him._

_“And the thing with Shanhui’s---,” Shanhong said, “is that their Prince is too charming for me not to risk my life again and again to see him.”_


	4. Shine a Light

[Kai]

The next morning, Kai’s already wide awake when the servants come to help him dress. He sits at the mirror, watching the girl do his hair. His mind drifts elsewhere, thinking about the figure.

            “Kyungsoo!” Kai calls to his friend. No reply. Kai calls again, louder.

            “Yes, Your Highness?” a soft voice replies. Kai’s only true friend appears in the doorway. Kyungsoo is an advisor’s son, just a year older than Kai. He was the only one that was his age, and they’d bonded quickly. Kyungsoo is the opposite of Kai, he was quiet, obedient, and gentle, whereas the prince was known for his troublemaker side. The queen had often told Kai to learn from Kyungsoo, and Kai’d always pretend that he didn’t hear her. He loved his parents, but sometimes they expected too much out of him. Kyungsoo was the perfect son, in their eyes.

            “Soo, can you get the jacket by the door,” Kai said, as the girl finished and bowed before rushing out. Kyungsoo strode into his room and grabbed his jacket, tossing it to Kai. Catching it in one hand, Kai pulls it on, admiring himself in the mirror. Kyungsoo scoffs.

            “No matter how much you look, you’re still not as beautiful as me,” Kyungsoo said, just because it would tip the prince.

            “That’s not even remotely true and you know it,” Kai retorted, grabbing his brooch from the nightstand. Kyungsoo takes it out of his hands and stands between the mirror and Kai to put it on for him. Kai’s half a head taller than Kyungsoo, but for some reason, he feels like he can’t breathe. He finds himself unconsciously leaning down to him.

            “There,” Kyungsoo says, suddenly looking up. Kai jumps and straightens himself, catching Kyungsoo’s round eyes on him. He clears his throat and mutters a small “thanks”.

            “Let’s go.”

 

 

[Baekhyun]

            He pulls the t-shirt over his head. Today’s Friday, and he’s going to collect his money today. He grabs the clip of keys from the nightstand, and loops it through his belt hole, ties off the lanyard, and adjusts the keys. He’s lost his key once at the club, and he’s keen on not losing his spare. There’s another one at Minseok’s house, in case of an emergency, but he’d rather not have to resort to that. Baekhyun pulls on his shoes and locks the door before pulling it shut.

            He’s won another one, and Minseok nods in approval. The guy was easy to beat, he couldn’t even throw a punch right. He leaned back against wall, hand holding another bottle of water from Minseok. Minseok sits next to him, observing the fight still going on. The club is anxious, tensions and whispers in the air. Both Minseok and Baekhyun know what they’re talking about. It’s already the middle of the night, and that girl hasn’t come yet. Maybe she won’t come today. He lets Minseok do the watching as he closes his eyes.

            “EVERYBODY GET DOWN!” Baekhyun’s eyes snap open. Suddenly, there are royal guards all over the place. At the head is the guy in dark blue that Baekhyun fought yesterday, except he’s no longer in casual clothing. He’s fully suited up, and the badge of his rank shines proudly on his breast. Baekhyun looks over to Minseok, who tugs him down to his knees, holding his hands up. Everyone else in the club follows suit. The guards fan out, seemingly looking for something—or someone, Baekhyun realizes with a jolt.

            “Shit, they’re here for me,” Baekhyun whispers to Minseok, who only nods.

            “I assumed so, seeing that you beat up the _Captain of the Royal Guard_ ,” Minseok whispers back to him. Baekhyun sneaks a glance up, watching a pair of boots make their way to him.

            “You,” the guard grabs his arm, pulling him up. Another guard comes and grips his other arm, a third comes and puts his sword at Baekhyun’s neck. He doesn’t raise his head, afraid of being recognized. He hears a swish of a cloak, and suddenly his cap is being pulled off. The Captain gruffly rips his mask off, leaving Baekhyun wincing at the uncomfortable tug from his ears. He dares to meet the Captain’s eyes, fiery gaze holding him. The Captain takes his chin and tilts it up to the light, and smirks.

            “Too bad you aren’t mine,” the Captain muses, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You’d make such a nice little pet. You know better than to scream, don’t you?” The Captain drops his hand from Baekhyun’s chin and waves his hands. His squadron goes back to their formation, except for the three holding Baekhyun down. They roughly push him forward, causing him to stumble a bit, and lead him out of the club.

 

 

[Minseok]

            He watches Baekhyun being led away, head racing. If there’s a trial, Baekhyun would no doubt ask for his lawyer to call Minseok, who could claim that in Baekhyun’s defense, he didn’t know that he’d be fighting the Captain of the Royal Guard. The club starts to stand, muttering about the ruckus. Some are still in shock. The club is no doubt illegal, but they only took one person, and not even the owner. Minseok doesn’t hear this as he rushes out of the club, just in time to bump into a figure at the entrance.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” Minseok extends a hand to the fallen boy. He takes it, eyes shining.

            “It’s fine. Who are you?” the boy asks. Minseok seizes him up. Handsome, no doubt, but clearly not a fighter. Probably a year or two younger than himself, about Baekhyun’s age.

            “I’m Minseok, and you?”

            “You can call me Jongdae.”

            “Well, later, then, I have to go.” Minseok runs away from Jongdae, suddenly aware that he’d been holding his breath. Something about Jongdae had made his heart race and his palms sweat, he realizes, running back to his house to grab Baekhyun’s spare key and his phone. He changes out of his soiled clothes quickly and runs back to Baekhyun’s apartment. Fumbling to unlock Baekhyun’s door, he hears footsteps. Minseok turns around, before spotting someone at the end of the hall.

            “Well, long time to see, Minseok,” It’s Jongdae. Had he followed him?

            “Didn’t know you lived here, Minseok,”

            “I don’t. This is a friend’s apartment.”

            “The same one that was taken away by the guard earlier?” At this, Minseok freezes. He looks at Jongdae, as if seeing him clearly for the first time.

            “How do you know this?” Minseok turns the key, pushing the door open. Jongdae trots forward.

            “I know many things,” Jongdae says as he walks into the apartment. Baekhyun’s apartment is horribly messy, a sharp contrast to Minseok’s own home. Jongdae plops himself on Baekhyun’s couch, and watches as Minseok eyes him.

            “What do you know about the events that just happened?” Minseok asks, curious.

            “You mean about Baekhyun?” Jongdae says, causing Minseok to jump. _How the heck does he know his real name?_ Baekhyun’s always used an alias.

            “How do you know his name?” Minseok asks as Jongdae gets up from the couch to dig around in Baekhyun’s kitchen. Jongdae doesn’t reply, and Minseok’s temper fires up.

            “Ouch! That hurts!” Jongdae cries, trying to wrench his arm from where Minseok’s hand has gripped him. Minseok slams the refrigerator door shut and slams Jongdae against it, earning a soft grunt and a cry of pain when his head hits the door.

            “How. Do. You. Know. His. Name” Minseok says, teeth grit, shoving his elbow against the younger’s neck, pressing enough to make it uncomfortable, but not enough to hurt. Jongdae looks at Minseok, and for the first time, an ounce of fear crawls into Jongdae’s eyes at Minseok’s livid expression.

            “I…” Jongdae gasps out before a tinkling noise makes them both jump. Baekhyun’s phone. Minseok slams Jongdae against the door again before scrambling to grab the phone. Jongdae slides down the door, gasping for air. Minseok looks at the caller ID. Mijun. Who is that?

            “H-Hello?” Minseok asks, answering the phone. There is a pause at the other end of the line.

            “This isn’t Hyunnie, is it,” a female voice, stern and clipped, replies. Minseok grimaces.

            “No, I’m Baekhyun’s friend,”

            “Ah, I see. Where’s Baekhyun?”

            “Who are you?”

            “I’m his sister, who are you?” Minseok’s eyes widen. He never asked Baekhyun about his family and didn’t even know that Baekhyun had a sister. Only that Baekhyun was an orphan.

            “I’m Minseok. Listen,” Minseok decides to tell her about everything that happened.

            “Listen what?”

            “Just listen, please don’t ask questions. Baekhyun was taken by the royal guards today,” Minseok draws a breath. The line is silent.

            “Baekhyun was what?” the Mijun asks, voice soft, disbelief clear.

            “Please listen, Mijun, is it? Baekhyun is known for fighting in underground clubs. He’s actually pretty well-known now. Yesterday, Baekhyun fought someone unexpected. The opponent looked like anyone else and was beat up badly by Baekhyun. Today, he came again. This time in full gear. He was wearing the Captain of the Royal Guard emblem on his jacket, along with the blue of Hanguk. I think Baekhyun’s in trouble,” Minseok finishes.

            “Shit” Mijun whispers. Minseok jumps at a soft tap on his shoulder. Jongdae has recovered and silently asking for the phone. Minseok is wary, but hands it to him anyway.

            “Mijun?” Jongdae asks.

            “Jongdae! What are you doing at Baekhyun’s?”

            “Uh… long story short,” Jongdae looks at Minseok, who is trying to figure out how Mijun knows Jongdae but says nothing. Jongdae looks him straight in his eyes.   

            “Baekhyun’s going to be fine,”

            “Why?”

            “The Crown Prince called for Baekhyun. Personally.”


	5. Love You Right

[Yixing and Shanhong]

            Yixing sits at the table, hands folded neatly in his lap. Shanhong stands behind him, in full combat gear. Her outfit is light, a red long-sleeved shirt, a leather vest probably loaded with knives, tight pants that Yixing can’t help but sneak glances at, and knee-high leather boots, sort of formal but Yixing knows that she can deliver a deadly kick in them. She has a protective hand on his chest, and he reaches up to pat it gently. Shanhong looks down, and her expression softens.

            “They’re taking so long, why aren’t any of them ever on time? It’s almost quarter past six. Prince Chanyeol said dinner starts at six,” Shanhong mutters, shifting on her feet. Neither of them mentions how Kai isn’t here either.

            “It’s his specialty,” Yixing replies, “Chanyeol always sets the time up always shows up at least fifteen minutes later.” Just then, the door bangs open, causing Yixing to jump and Shanhong to crouch a bit. Upon realizing who it is, she relaxes as Prince Kai walks to his seat, with his “henchman”, as Shanhong calls him, in tow. Yixing stands and shakes his hand with Kai across the table as Shanhong and Kyungsoo nod their heads at each other, acknowledging each other’s presence.  

            “Who is this?” Kai asks, motioning towards Shanhong. She presses her lips together but bows.

            “My betrothed, Shanhong, this is Prince Kai of Seolim. Kai, Shanhong.” Yixing answers. If he took offense to Kai’s ignorance, he did not show it. Kai nods. Shanhong is slightly disappointed that Kai clearly doesn’t follow up on Shanhui news, especially since they’ve been officially betrothed for almost half a year. She lets it slide, because it’s their first time meeting in person. Properly. Shanhong has done her fair share of spying in the past.

            “Sorry I’m late!” a cheerful booming voice calls. Chanyeol walks in, and to Yixing’s surprise, with a person that has intelligent eyes, dwarfed by Chanyeol’s sheer height.

            “My captain is out on some…business. This is Junmyeon, my closest advisor.” Chanyeol says, answering Yixing’s unasked question. Junmyeon bows and moves to stand behind Chanyeol.

            “Glad you could finally come,” Kai mocks, but Chanyeol just laughs, shaking his hand with him. Yixing extends his hand, and Chanyeol’s much larger one engulfs it.

            “How’s life?” Yixing asks the taller prince. Kai watches the exchange with a neutral expression.

            “Oh, the usual, work, work, train, work, socialize, fire some people, get some new ones, you know the whole shebang.” The foreign princes laugh, each knowing what it feels like.

            “Please rise for the King and Queen of Hanguk!”

            Yixing rises to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kai sigh, then stand up. Chanyeol really took after his parents. He has his mother’s kind eyes and his father’s gentle smile is mirrored on Chanyeol’s face. The princes bow as the King leads his wife to Chanyeol’s left.

            “Please, sit.” The King motions to the servants to begin serving. A savory aroma fills the hall as the platters come rolling in. It’s truly a feast fit for a king. Roasted duck, fresh sushi, and Yixing’s personal favorite, sweet and sour fish are set on the table. None of the princes move, waiting for the king to pick up his chopsticks first. Shanhong fills his goblet with wine, even though she knows he hates wine. It’s a common respect to consume wine at the banquet, so Yixing thanks her with a nod. Across the table, Kyungsoo does the same for Kai, and Junmyeon for Chanyeol.  The queen, a person of gentle beauty, stands and fills her husband’s cup, and he takes it, standing up.

            “To the future of Seolim, Shanhui, and Hanguk!” the king raises his goblet, and the princes follow, echoing his words. Yixing tilts his head back, hiding a cringe at the taste of the wine, but down his goblet anyway. The king sits and waves his hand for them to sit as well.

            “Let’s begin!” Yixing waits quietly for the sweet and sour fish to rotate around to him and waits for the king to have tasted before picking up his own chopsticks. He feels Shanhong tense behind him, her hand right hand suddenly holding his tighter. He doesn’t turn around but squeezes her hand back to let her know that he knows she’s uncomfortable. Glancing around the table, he sees Chanyeol engaged in conversation with his mother, and to Kai who’s…holding the hand of his friend? What? Since when were they a thing?

            “Prince Yixing!” The king’s voice calls. Yixing snaps his head up.

            “Yes, Your Majesty?”

            “Aren’t you going to introduce us to the young lady at your left?” Yixing starts, realizing that he forgot. At this, the queen looks up from her conversation with Chanyeol and he looks up as well.

            “My apologies, Your Majesty,” Yixing says, “This is Shanhong, my betrothed.” Shanhong bows to the king, and he smiles.

            “What a lovely young lady. Why don’t you join us at the table instead of standing?” Shanhong is slightly shocked as his invitation. She’s technically not a princess yet, and therefore does not rank high enough to sit at a table with royals. She doesn’t know how to answer. To refuse would be to look disrespectful in a country towards its king, but to accept means breaking the rules. Luckily, Yixing comes to her rescue.

            “She has already eaten, You Majesty,” Shanhong quickly nods, agreeing, even though by “already eaten”, Yixing means the taro cake from three hours ago. The king doesn’t seem to notice.

            “Ah, what a pity,”. From there, it’s all light conversation. Yixing doesn’t like to talk, so this suits him. He feels Shanhong relax behind him. She slips his hand from his, allowing him to continue eating. As the plates of food are clearing and the desserts coming, a servant comes running into the hall. He bows quickly to the five members of royalty before running to Chanyeol and leaning to whisper something in his ear. Chanyeol simply nods and dismisses the servant, who scurries out of the hall.

            “Is everything alright, Chan?” the queen asks.

            “It’s alright, Mother.” Chanyeol replies, and the conversation resumes. Yixing can’t help but notice that Chanyeol’s demeanor seems to be more giddy than usual. He seems excited for something. Yixing digs into his coconut tofu. It’s creamy and sweet, and the cold tofu relaxes him.

            “Lucky,” Shanhong mutters, watching her prince consume their favorite dessert. Yixing hides a smile, pulling her down so he could feed her a bite. Her eyes grow wide at his gesture, but she accepts anyway, lips closing around the spoon for a second before pulling away.

            “So romantic,” Prince Kai comments, “Honestly, I’m quite jealous.” At this, Chanyeol laughs.

            “No pressure, Kai,” Chanyeol says, making the king and queen laugh.

            “But I’m older than Yixing! Why am I not engaged yet?” Kai says, fake desperation in his tone.

            “And I’m older than you, and no one is in the near future for me,” Chanyeol informs him, making Kai scrunch his nose. Turning to the king and queen, who’s stifling her laughter behind a handkerchief, he smiles.

            “He’s pretty desperate, isn’t he, Your Majesties?” Kai says, gesturing to Chanyeol.

            “Hey! I’m right here!” Chanyeol says in an upset tone, but his eyes are twinkling and he’s smiling.

            “You’re a pretty good match,” the queen jokes to Kai. Kai laughs.

            “I think Chanyeol’s too much of a handful, don’t you think?” he replies to the queen, who bursts into a fresh bout of laughter. The king smiles at Yixing and Shanhong, whose face is flushed at the conversation.

            “Thanks for reminding me, Yixing,” the king says to Yixing. Meanwhile, on the king’s right, Chanyeol and Kai are bickering about who would get their significant other first. After a few more minutes, the plates are once again cleared, and the king rises to his feet.

            “This has been wonderful, I look forward to the next time!” the king says, taking the queen’s hand and leading her out of the hall. The princes bow, and just as the sound of the queen’s heels disappear down the hall, Chanyeol and Kai pick up their arguing.

            “That’s not fair, just because I don’t prefer girls doesn’t mean that I can’t get married before you!” Chanyeol says to Kai, who’s laughing.

            “At least I’ve fallen in love before, Chanyeol,” Kai retorts. Chanyeol crosses his arms, clearly upset that he lost the argument.

            “It’s no big deal,” Yixing says, trying to comfort him. Chanyeol grins, and starts to insult Kai about his fashion, when all three of them know that without the servants, Chanyeol would probably be wearing a potato sack.

            “You should retreat,” Yixing murmurs to Shanhong. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kyungsoo being waved off by Kai as well. She bows and leaves for the West tower. Yixing cuts into their argument just as Chanyeol is talking about how Kai has rice on his jacket, and sure enough, there’s a kernel on his lapel.

            “You little…” Kai shouts. “Why didn’t you tell me?! What did your parents think?!”

            “My mother thought you were really cute with the piece of rice stuck on,” Chanyeol says, barely dodging a strike from Kai.

            “Uh-uh,” Chanyeol says, wagging his finger at Kai, “Respect your elders.”

            “What’s a year’s difference,” Kai mutters.

            “Apparently a lot, because Yixing’s betrothed and you aren’t!” Chanyeol says, which makes Kai take another swing.

            “Such a big difference,” Yixing cuts in, “especially since the two elders are having a cat-fight over their own ages.” This makes Kai and Chanyeol freeze, Chanyeol almost falling off of the chair his mother just occupied and Kai with a fork in his right hand. Kai coughs and sets the fork down as Chanyeol hops down from the chair. Yixing sighs, Chanyeol and Kai might both be older than him, but they certainly weren’t as mature. _Probably only-child traits,_ Yixing thinks, sitting back down in his chair. Chanyeol is twenty-one, Kai is twenty, and Yixing ninteen, but it was almost reversed in their actions. Yixing was quiet and thoughtful, Kai was brash and rushed everything, and Chanyeol would much rather spend a day outside and doing nothing than dealing with his paper work. The three of them knew that there was stuff needed to be done, just some of them avoided it as much as possible, despite their capabilities.

            “I’m…uh…” Kai mutters, still trying to cope with the embarrassment of trying to stab Chanyeol with a fork, “I’m going to my room, see you all tomorrow!”

            “Yeah me too,” Chanyeol says, hurrying after him and out of the hall. Yixing sighs, now alone in the hall. He makes his way to the kitchen before heading up to their room. Despite the lights being on and the room being theirs, he still feels a need to knock before entering. Shanhong doesn’t look up from her book, but she does as he sets down the plate from the kitchen next to her on her desk.

            “You know me so well,” Shanhong says, picking up the spoon and digging in to the coconut tofu. Yixing smiles, retreating to his desk at the other end of the room. He sighs, looking at the paper work that needed to be filled out, and decides to shower instead of dealing with it. He grabs his clothes and steps into the bathroom. The smell of Shanhong’s shampoo and the steam on the mirror says that she already showered. He takes a deep breath, breathing in her shampoo’s lavender scent. It was a perfect love story, Yixing lover her with all his heart, and Shanhong loved him with all her heart, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really shitty at coming up with names, aren't I? Holy bejezus all I could think of was Hanguk. I'm so creative.


	6. Shinin' Shinin'

[Baekhyun]

            His wrists were sore where they’d put the cuffs on him. They were tight enough to hurt and bruise, but not tight enough to cut off his circulation. They’d dragged him out of the club, slapped the cuffs on, and shoved him unceremoniously into the back of a van. There was a tinted fiberglass barrier between the trunk where he was shoved and the row of seats in front. He wondered where they were going. For most of the ride, he didn’t bother to try to peek out of the glass at the windshield, knowing that it as too bumpy and he’d likely fall back on his ass again. When the roads did smooth out, he stood to take a glance, and was shocked. They were taking him to the palace? Why? Had he done that badly not to be taken to the local police station instead?

            “Come on, munchkin,” the Captain said after opening the trunk of the car. Baekhyun blinked at him. The Captain had growled and yanked on his hair. Baekhyun hissed but complied, there wasn’t much else he could do. The Captain roughly shoved him forward, lead him into the building, and into one of the rooms. The room was bare, no windows, and to Baekhyun, felt like a prison. It wasn’t intended that way, hopefully. The Captain gives him a shove, and gestures to the chair in the middle of the room, inviting him to sit. Baekhyun doesn’t move, and the Captain groans before shoving him forward, and pushing him into the chair. The Captain turns to leave.

            “Untie his hands and tie them to the armrests instead. Bring in a chair for His Highness,” the Captain commands, sending guards scurrying to comply. Baekhyun’s curious. His Highness? Why would royalty want to meet an illegal fighter? Baekhyun had no clue. He surveys the room, looking for any escape routes, but there weren’t any openings, except for the door that was flanked by guards. He sighs, testing the ropes around his wrist. He sits and waits.

 

[Chanyeol]

            After rushing out of the hall, Chanyeol followed the servant that rushed in during the meal to inform him that his “request has been delivered”. He follows him down, waving for Junmyeon do dismiss himself. The advisor bows and heads the other direction. Chanyeol quickly realizes were they’re going, and stops, the servant stops as well, waiting for Chanyeol to move.

            “I’m not going to meet him in the dungeons,” Chanyeol says, voice low. The servant looked at him, surprised.

            “Bring him up to one of the meeting rooms, give him some food, and let him use a restroom. Tell him I’ll meet him in an hour.” Chanyeol’s surprised at himself. He knew that this guy’s good, but he still shouldn’t treat a criminal like this. The servant looks at him again, before scurrying off. Chanyeol isn’t sure how to feel about this situation. Sure, he was shocked that a common street fighter had beaten the crap out of his captain. He wanted to meet this person, maybe find him a place in the ranks. Chanyeol asked his guard to get this person, which might not have been a good idea. He sighs, and wanders down the halls.

 

[Baekhyun]

            “Get up, kid,” a guard roughly, retying Baekhyun’s hands from the chair to the front. Baekhyun takes this moment to kick out at the guard, catching him in the stomach. The guard yells out, and the guards at the door immediately storm in, drawing swords. Baekhyun ducks the first strike, kicks the guard down, and picks up his sword. He’s never fought with a sword, but how different can it be from a staff? Apparently not so much, because the sword is well-crafted. It’s lightweight, but most importantly, it’s balanced. Where Baekhyun put his hand, it’s the midpoint of the sword’s weight. He blocks a strike from the second guard, twisting his sword around until he drops it, grabs the guard’s sword hand, and twirls him around, until the guard’s back slams into his own chest. Putting the sword at the guard’s neck, he smirks.

            “Move,” Baekhyun demands, voice quiet. The guards immediately freeze. His bargaining chip whimpers, and Baekhyun has to fight the urge not to laugh. He forces the guard to walk to the door, the other guards will with swords up, but none daring to strike lest they get their comrade killed. Once they’re down the hall, Baekhyun climbs up some stairs, and after reaching the top, shoves his captive down the stairs, causing the rest of the guards to fall down the stairs in a jumble. He doesn’t waste a single moment, turning on his heels and running. He has absolutely no idea where he is, and no clue how to get out of the palace. His sword arm is a little sore from holding the sword at the guard’s neck, so he tosses it to his left hand. As a fighter, most are trained to be ambidextrous, and Minseok to Baekhyun was no option. _Minseok_ , shit. _I hope he’s okay._ Baekhyun slows down just a bit to read the tiny sign on the door. _West Tower_. Huh, too late and without better options. Baekhyun pushes the door open and hurries down the stairs, the guards have followed him into West Tower, and he can hear the captain commanding that they spread out to “find the prisoner”. He freezes. Footsteps. He crouches in the shadow of the staircase, but his stomach chooses that moment to demonstrate the mating call of a whale. The footsteps stop, and then they start again, but the person’s running. Should he run for it or should he hide? He chooses to run. He runs the length of the hall and manages to turn the corner before he’s meet with someone. Baekhyun crashes into them, his head meeting the person’s chest. Baekhyun crashes to the ground, right on his ass bruise from yesterday. He groans but picks himself up.

            “Who are you? Where are you going?” the figure asks in a booming voice. Baekhyun chooses not to answer and tries to go around the person. When that fails, Baekhyun swings the sword at the person’s arm, hoping to scare them out of the way. He doesn’t anticipate the strong hand that encloses his wrist and twists his arm until he gasps from the pain, dropping the sword. Using the same tactic that earned him the guard-prisoner, Baekhyun finds himself in a headlock. His hands fly to the arm around his neck, sputtering for air. To his surprise, instead of waiting for the guards to find him, the figure drags him into a room on the left, and shoves Baekhyun in, locking the door behind them. Baekhyun whirls around, ready to fight, but then he is blinded by the lights.

[Chanyeol]

            He flicks the lights on, watching the boy shield his eyes. This is probably him. Chanyeol was strolling around when he heard his phone buzz.

            “Yes, Captain Mason?” Chanyeol asked as soon as the call connected.

            “Prisoner loose,”

            “Got it. Secure West and South Towers, can’t let the foreigners get caught in this.”

            “On it.” The call went dead. Now he had the prisoner here, in this room. He looks so young, but Chanyeol knows not to judge a book by its cover. He walks over to the half-bathroom on the opposite side of the door, grabs a towel, wets it, and hands it to the kid. He gingerly accepts it and wipes the dirt off his face and hands.

            “Sit, kid” Chanyeol gestured to the chair in front of the desk. He himself sat behind it. The boy doesn’t seem fazed and plops himself down in the chair, folding the towel neatly on the arm of the chair. Chanyeol shoots his Captain a quick text. _Retreat._ Soon the sounds in the hall fade out, and Chanyeol eyes the person in front of him.

            “Why?” the kid’s eyes meet his own.

            “Because I’m interested in you,” Chanyeol replies, “Not romantically, but because I heard you beat someone up pretty bad,”. The kid scoffs, rolls his eyes, and sits back in his chair, folding his arms up against his chest. Chanyeol isn’t used to this kind of disrespect, but he lets it slide.

            “What’s your name?” Chanyeol asks.

            “Hyun,”

            “Your real name,” This makes the kid sit up.

            “How do you know Hyun isn’t my real name?” It’s Chanyeol’s turn to laugh.

            “Because I have contacts, kid,”.

            “Stop calling me a kid and maybe I’ll tell you,”

            “But you are a kid! How old are you, sixteen? Seventeen?”

            “Older than you, so be quiet.” Chanyeol’s flustered.

            “How do you know you’re older? We’ve barely met.” Chanyeol doesn’t have his hair styled back, and he’s not wearing his usual public attire, so he didn’t think he’d be recognizable.    

            “From the way you act? Yeah. You could be five.” The kid retorts. Chanyeol frowns. Time to take another approach.

            “I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m Chanyeol. I’m twenty-one this year,” Chanyeol says. This makes the kid sit up.

            “Baekhyun, age twenty-one,” Baekhyun ignores Chanyeol’s outstretched hand and relaxes back against the chair. Suddenly, he realizes something.

            “Shit, are you the Prince?” Baekhyun’s tone suddenly went from sarcastic to frantic, making Chanyeol hide a smile.

            “Yes, and now the you’ve realized, can I ask you some questions?” Chanyeol says, sitting back into his own chair. Baekhyun narrows puppy eyes at him but says nothing.

            “Personal history? Familial background? Married? Any past offenses or run-ins with the law?” Chanyeol rattles off. Baekhyun’s face remains forcibly neutral.

            “My parents died in a fire when I was young. My sister is the wife of Choi Minho, heir of Choi Incorporated. I lived alone for the past couple years. I attended Seoul University—” Here, Chanyeol cuts him off.

            “Attended? Aren’t you twenty-one? Shouldn’t you still be there?” Baekhyun shoots him a look.

            “I graduated earlier this year with full honors, full marks, and the top of my class. Got a problem?” Baekhyun snapped. Chanyeol looked at him in awe. He must be really smart to graduate from one of the top universities at twenty. Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, letting the shorter continue.

            “I majored in mathematics, and just haven’t found a job yet. It’s only been three months since, so I’m not worried. Single, not looking for a relationship, but I’m always interested in getting laid. Uh…what was the last thing you said?”

            “Criminal history,”

            “Oh. Uh—that…ah…so…um…yes?” Chanyeol’s not surprised, but keeps silent, forcing him to continue.

            “Argh. Fine. When I was fifteen I was bullied a lot, so I hacked the school system and released their shit-ass grades to the internet. They had zero evidence; I hadn’t left a trace. They only caught me because they started to blame everyone, and one person that was accused was one of my two friends, Jongdae—”

            “Wait, Jongdae, as in Jongdae Kim? Son of my adviser, Junmyeon Kim?”

            “Yeah, now can I continue?”

            “Yes, sorry,”

            “Well anyway,” Baekhyun continues, “It was the Salem Witch Trials all over again, but I came forward and admitted it, so that’s how I got caught. Mijun—my sister—paid them big money to let me go, but not without a mark on my record. When I was seventeen I was wrongfully accused of cyberbullying a little girl to commit suicide, even though my ban from any type of technology wasn’t even lifted, but they accused me anyway, because hey, why not blame the kid that already has a track record for technology? But they did anyway, that’s how I wound up dirt poor, because I refused to let Mijun pay me off a second time, and for a crime I didn’t even commit!” Baekhyun’s anger was rising, Chanyeol could see it in the flush of color in his cheeks. _Damn, that’s so cute_ , Chanyeol found himself thinking, before snapping back to Baekhyun’s story.

            “Then I left my sister’s home. I decided to find an apartment myself, to distance me—a criminal—from her, because she was always the model child. I changed my name to Hyun Asher, and to this day, only three people outside of her knows I’m her brother; Minho, my brother-in-law, Jongdae, and Sehun. My only friends in this world,” Baekhyun sits back down, exhausted, and quite disappointed at how his life seemed so sad, summed up this way. He never mentioned Minseok and the fight club, because he didn’t want to make this worse.

            “What about the fights? How old were you?” Chanyeol asked, probing. _Ah, shit, here is where it goes to hell,_ Baekhyun thought.

            “Seventeen. I didn’t want to. I needed a source of income quickly,” Baekhyun answers, voice low to a whisper, “No one would hire me if they knew who I was; they’d much rather turn me into the authorities for some quick cash. So, I learned to fight,” Baekhyun watches the prince carefully. He hasn’t told a lie yet, but it wasn’t the full story. Baekhyun didn’t fully trust the Crown Prince yet, but he didn’t want to lie to make it worse.

            “Who taught you?” Chanyeol asks. Baekhyun is caught off-guard by the question. He…hadn’t mentioned being taught, did he?

            “What do you mean?” Baekhyun asks, careful to keep his voice neutral and unwavering.

            “You do not fight like an amateur,” Chanyeol began. He’s so ready to tear this kid’s story out of him, “Not everyone can beat my Captain. Mason told me about your fight with him.” At this, Baekhyun doubles back. _What?_

            “He said that you favored your right hand, your dominant hand, but could fight well with both. The fact that you were only seventeen and isn’t dead right now means you knew what you were doing,” Chanyeol’s brains works as he speaks, letting the pieces fall together in his head. Baekhyun sits there, shocked. _This is like Minseok’s analysis,_ Baekhyun thinks. Chanyeol continues.

            “When you and I first encountered, you held the sword in your left hand, meaning that you’re double-handed—ambidextrous, a quality that is commonly trained in a fighter. When you were running, your legs didn’t stride too far out in front of you, meaning that if you’d tripped or lost your balance, you could easily regain your balance with your other foot. You stuck close to the wall with your back against it, so you were anticipating something either in front or behind you, using the wall as a defense,” Chanyeol analyzes, “Am I correct?”

            “Yeah, I mean—I was trained, but I don’t want to tell you who…” Baekhyun’s voice tapers off. _Wow, he’s an idiot; way to say, “Hey ! He’s totally_ not _guilty!”._ He wants to smack himself. Chanyeol only smiles.

            “Either your teacher is brilliant, or you’re insanely talented,” Chanyeol muses.

            “Or maybe both,” Baekhyun mutters under his breath, but the giant with his wide earns hears. Chanyeol is really curious to know who but doesn’t press. He’ll get Jongdae to find out later. Jongdae may be insanely whiny and pestering, but the kid is smart and has a way of getting information out of people. Chanyeol hums to himself for a moment.

            “I’ll give you a room, but you’re going to have to deal with the guards, sorry about that,” Chanyeol decides. Baekhyun’s head snaps up. He’s going to stay in the Palace? The Glass Palace? Seriously? Twenty-four hours ago, he was in an illegal club and now…wow.

            Chanyeol waves a servant over, and gives him instructions. The servant doesn’t say anything, bows, and exits. Chanyeol decides to get to know Baekhyun better.

            “When’s your birthday?” Chanyeol asks.

            “Why are you asking me, I thought I was your prisoner,” Baekhyun snaps, a little more harshly then he intended to, but Chanyeol only laughs.

            “When is it?”

            “Sixth of May,” At this, Chanyeol grins.

            “So you are older than me. Mine’s the twenty-seventh of November,”

            “Ha, I knew you were a kid,” Baekhyun snickers. Chanyeol doesn’t seem too upset, but keeps silent.

            “Favorite outfit?”

            “What the heck? That’s such a weird question to ask,”

            “Just answer it, Baekhyun,”

            “All black, because it keeps me in a fighting mindset, but other than that I usually wear whatever is clean or isn’t wrinkled or doesn’t smell weird. Life is hard sometimes, I can’t always pay my bills, not that you’d know,” Baekhyun’s voice turns bitter at the end. It’s so unfair. Why do some people have all the riches of their dreams, while others had to literally fight for a living?

            “Favorite book,” Chanyeol’s question annoys Baekhyun a little. What is the purpose of questioning him?

            “ _Slaughterhouse Five_ by—”

            “Oh! You’re a Vonnegut fan?” Chanyeol suddenly perks up in interest. Wow, he didn’t know that someone like Baekhyun would have a taste in literature, and quite frankly, he isn’t judging.

            “ _Slaughterhouse Five_ is pretty good, but my all-time favorite probably goes to _The Crucible_ ,” Baekhyun doesn’t know why he’s telling the Crown Prince this, but he also doesn’t understand why he’s here talking to the Crown Prince in person anyway, so whatever.

            “ _The Crucible,_ huh?” Chanyeol ponders this. Baekhyun’s desire for all-black clothing doesn’t tell much about him, but Baekhyun’s other comment is interesting. Fighting mindset. _So, if he wasn’t wearing black, he’d be a totally different person?_ Chanyeol glances at the outfit on the smaller, head to toe, black. His liking for _Slaughterhouse Five_ is interesting too, an antiwar book, but the one that makes him really amused is _The Crucible._ Maybe it was because of the hacking incident that left him permanently bitter about people making false accusations without proof.

[Baekhyun]

            He looks at the Crown Prince, noting the way the Prince sits in the chair, back straight and head held high. Baekhyun wonders what it would take to break the Crown Prince’s resolve. _He’s been groomed for this,_ Baekhyun realizes. Chanyeol’s stiff actions might, at this point, be totally unconscious. Chanyeol seems deep in thought, eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes staring down at his hands. Baekhyun glances at his hands too. They’re much rougher than he imagined. Being a prince, Baekhyun imagined Chanyeol’s hands to be soft looking, having never done hard labor in his life. What Baekhyun sees is the opposite. There are callouses on his knuckles, which Baekhyun realizes are from punching, because they’re identical to his own. The prince’s long fingernails are worn but clean, unlike Baekhyun’s, whose fingernails are currently caked with dirt and blood. There are callouses on the prince's fingertips; the right ones from friction, the left ones from pressure. The right hand’s middle finger has a bump, suggesting frequent writing.

            “Room is ready, Your Highness,” a servant girl says. Chanyeol nods before sending her away. Chanyeol stands up, and Baekhyun just realizes how tall the Crown Prince is. When Chanyeol comes around the desk to lead Baekhyun out of the room, Baekhyun’s eyes are on his chest, with the top of his head at the Prince’s chin. Chanyeol walks to the door and waves his hand for Baekhyun to follow. He gets up, following the Prince through the hallway they’d come from, down the stairs where he’d dragged the guards, turns right, and Chanyeol leads him to the end of the hallway. When the reach the last door on the left, Chanyeol pushes it open, and motions for Baekhyun to go in.

            “Hope you like it,” Chanyeol says. _Like it?_ Baekhyun thinks, _This is the fucking Glass Palace, of course I like it._

            “It’s so beautiful,” Baekhyun whispers. Suddenly, he finds himself striding back to the Prince and pulling him into a hug. Chanyeol stiffens a bit from surprise, but hugs Baekhyun back anyway. Baekhyun pulls away suddenly.

            “Oh my! I’m sorry, it just—” Baekhyun suddenly loses his voice. _It reminds me of my little sister,_ Baekhyun thinks, _she always had cream colored wall paper._ Chanyeol doesn’t seem affected.

            “I’m sorry, but I have to take safety precautions,” Chanyeol starts, glancing at Baekhyun. The smaller simply nods, still taking in the room. He seems sad, but Chanyeol pretends not to notice.

            “I’m going to lock the door from the outside, you’ll be stuck in here for the night. The bathroom is to your left, and clothes are in the closet. I roughly judged your size, so they might not fit really well,” Chanyeol finishes, looking back to Baekhyun. Baekhyun turns around, and looks him in the eyes.

            “I understand,” Baekhyun says, voice full of confidence, “Can I just as a favor?”

            “Sure,”

            “Can I call my sister?” Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol doesn’t glance up, and tosses his own phone to Baekhyun. He isn’t sure why he didn’t call for another phone to be brought. He hates people touching his phone, it’s his property, everyone else can fuck off. But since he did, might as well test the kid. Baekhyun turns the screen on, and isn’t surprised by the wallpaper. The royal seal. Of course. Baekhyun swipes to unlock, but is met with a pin number. He looks at the Prince. Chanyeol looks back at him and smirks, closing the door behind him as he leaves the room to give Baekhyun privacy. Baekhyun sighs. What can he try? The phone informs him that he has seven attempts before it becomes locked for a minute. Baekhyun thinks it over. _If His Stupid Highness is giving me the phone, he trusts me. If he trusts me, then he must think I’m worthy. I think I’m worthy, but how does he know that? He smirked at me on his way out. He’s trying me. Oh, okay, I see how this is. If we’ve only met for an hour, then he must have indirectly told me already._ Baekhyun thinks over their conversation in the other room. _If this idiot put his birthday as his phone password, I’m going to laugh._ He types in the numbers nonetheless. 0611. Incorrect. He flips the month and the date and tries again. Incorrect. Baekhyun curses, He’s down two tries and nowhere close. Age? He types in 20, but he stops. What else? _Wait._ If he’s twenty-one right now, then he’s born—

            “In 38M,” Baekhyun whispers. This opens up new possibilities. Baekhyun runs the combinations through his head. Month-year? Date-year? Year- Month? Year-date? Age-year? The possibilities are too many to try, but he tries 1138. Incorrect.  He thinks over their conversations again. One thing suddenly jumps out at him. _Slaughterhouse Five_. Chanyeol’s read it, and a fan of Kurt Vonnegut. Baekhyun doesn’t know Vonnegut’s birthday, so that’s not an option. _Five_. Two attempts left. Baekhyun draws in a breath and types 0005. The phone unlocks.

            “Holy shit,” Baekhyun mutters, looking at the home screen’s wallpaper. It’s a picture of five boys around age fifteen. One of them is obviously Chanyeol, with his long limbs and big ears. One of them looks like young Jongdae, with his cat-like smile. _He’s the advisor’s son, so that’s not surprising_. One of them looks aggressively handsome, a sharp jawline despite the age. _Prince Kai; these must be the Crown Prince’s friends._ Baekhyun can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy; the prince has more friends than he does. He goes back to the picture. One of them looks younger than the rest, maybe a year or two, but in the teenage years, it’s glaringly obvious. The younger boy has kind eyes and dimpled cheeks. _Prince Yixing_. The last boy in the picture is interesting. He’s never seen him before. Round eyes and a soft smile, the boy’s pudgy cheeks are round and squishy-looking. They’re stacked on top of each other like a human pyramid, with Chanyeol, Kai, and Jongdae supporting Yixing and the doe-eyed boy. They all laugh at the camera. Judging by the background, this was taken at a beach. Baekhyun shakes himself out of his daze and punches in his sister’s number.

            “Hello?” Mijun’s soothing and familiar voice almost brings Baekhyun to his knees.

            “Jun, it’s me,” Baekhyun breathes out. There’s a brief pause at the other end of the line.

            “Are you okay?” Mijun finally asks, voice now sounding stressed.

            “I’m totally fine. No injuries, just a bit of questioning,” Baekhyun can feel Mijun tense at the other end.

            “How is my apartment? Did the guards get that too?” Baekhyun’s phone was still in his apartment, and he hated the thought of anyone going through it. Not that it contained anything bad, but it has videos and pictures of people that he’ll never see again.

            “Uhhh…listen, and don’t interrupt me,” Mijun says. When he doesn’t reply, Mijun starts to rant.

            “Your friend, Jongdae, and someone who claims to be your friend, his name is Min—something,” Mijun starts.

            “Minseok?” Baekhyun can’t help but feel some weight lifted off his shoulders. At least Minseok is okay.

            “Yeah, him, guy who looks seventeen but apparently isn’t. They’re both at my place. Minseok was freaking out over you, but apparently Jongdae said something about the Crown Prince wanting to see you personally. They’re getting along—a bit better than I expected. But anyway; I asked Jongdae why, but he said he didn’t know. Jongdae also said that you’d be fine. He’s debating whether or not to appeal to his father right now to see you, but he wants me to let you know that it’s all okay. Everything’s alright, don’t make dumb mistakes. Baekhyun,” Mijun’s voice turns really soft, “I love you no matter what, okay? But please, please make good decisions. You’re a smart kid, don’t let anyone take that away from you. Okay?” Bakehyun’s eyes well up. No matter what happens, his friends and his sister would always be by his side.

            “Yeah, I got it. No problem, Mijun. Take care, okay? Jongdae likes to whine, and Minseok is quiet. Minseok likes to eat healthy, but Jongdae tends to snack a lot. Please don’t make them worry over me, you too. I gotta go. Love you,” Baekhyun waits for Mijun to hang up. She does, after echoing his last sentence. Baekhyun breathes a sigh of relief. Minseok, Jongdae, and Mijun were okay. Sehun wasn’t there when he was taken, so there should be no suspicion on the model. Baekhyun opens the door, hands the phone back to Chanyeol, who was leaning on the opposite wall. Chanyeol looks up, pockets his phone, and bids him goodnight before walking away. Baekhyun turns back to the room and closes the door behind him. He hears the lock bolt click shut and sighs.


	7. Promise

[Baekhyun]

            The sun was too bright on his face. He groaned. He never opened the curtains in his room. _His room_. Baekhyun’s eyes snap open, eyeing the lavish suite as if it has teeth before remembering the events of last night. _Shit._ Baekhyun sits up, finding himself clothed in clean clothes. _Well, that’s a first._ He wanders to the closet, yanking it open to reveal all sorts of clothes. He opts for simplicity, pulling on a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that hadn’t looked too tight, but apparently were and he was too lazy to take them off.

            He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when there’s a knocking at the door. He hurriedly pulls on the black leather jacket he’d picked out, pulls on his sneakers, and opens to door, expecting a tall giant.

            “Mr. Baekhyun Byun?” the servant girl asks. Baekhyun nods at her. She curtsies to him, keeping her eyes on the ground.

            “His Highness Prince Chanyeol bids me to invite you to his room for breakfast,” she moves to the side and motion for him to follow, and he does. He follows her through the hallways, and after walking for what feels like forever, she finally turns right into—

            “The courtyard?” Baekhyun asks the girl. Was she lost? She doesn’t reply, and gestures to the elegant white stairs that lead up to a third story balcony. Baekhyun looks up to the balcony, and Chanyeol’s dark hair catches his eyes. He slowly walks up the steps, noting how out of place his dirty sneakers were against the painted white wood of the stairs. As he heads up the last flight of stairs, he can see the Prince ‘s face. He’s facing the stairs, face buried in a book, face calm as his eyes scan the pages. Something about his face makes Baekhyun’s breath catch. He almost trips on the last step from his staring at the Prince, and Chanyeol looks up at his attempt to regain his balance.

            “Good morning, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says casually. Baekhyun only smiles and takes the seat across from him. Chanyeol waves his hand and the same servant girl wheels the food cart over, laden with food that makes Baekhyun’s mouth water. Chanyeol gets up, thanks the girl, and starts to move the plates from the cart to the table. Baekhyun sits there frozen as the girl retreats to the bottom of the staircase, out of earshot. He turns back to the Prince, who’s just placing the last dish onto the glass table between them.

            “Help yourself,” Chanyeol says, helping himself to the coffee jug, pouring a generous amount of cream and sugar and picking up his book again. Baekhyun takes a plate from the cart and looks at the food in front of him. Bacon, eggs, toast, rice, stare back at him, waiting for him to move. Baekhyun hadn’t had a hot breakfast in nearly five years, ever since Mijun married and he’d moved away. Glancing at the prince to make sure he wouldn’t be judged, he scoops some of each onto his plate and starts to devour them.

            Chanyeol’s sneaking glances at the elder, unbeknownst to him, of course. _He’s so cute when he’s hungry_ , Chanyeol thinks, before mentally giving himself a slap across the face. He busies himself back with his book and tries not to glace at the beautiful boy across from him. Nope, he didn’t look at all.

            “So, why am I here?” Baekhyun asks, deciding to break the silence when he finished. His hands clasp the mug of black coffee, savoring its warmth in the early morning. Chanyeol shuts his book, places it aside, and looks him in the eyes.

            “I want you as my personal bodyguard,” Chanyeol says. Baekhyun’s shocked.

            “What? Me?”

            “Of course. Not everyone can beat Mason. He and I trained together for many years, and he was second best in the class,” Chanyeol says. Baekhyun decides to play the snobby card from last night.

            “Why don’t you just ask whoever was first best in your class?” Baekhyun asks.

            “Because that was me,” Chanyeol says casually, sitting back in the chair. Baekhyun almost spills his coffee. The prince was a fighter? Was he that good?

            “If you’re so good, you don’t need a bodyguard,” Baekhyun says, sipping his coffee again.

            “No, you might be better,” Chanyeol says, matter-of-factly. Baekhyun sputters.

            “Haha, you’re really funny,”.

Chanyeol suddenly sits up at Baekhyun’s words, making the letter choke on his words.

            “I mean—you’re the Prince. You were trained for this. I’m just a street fighter,” Baekhyun manages to say, hoping Chanyeol doesn’t notice the blush that’s creeping up his face. Chanyeol notices.  

            “Exactly why I want you,”.

Baekhyun’s eyes scrunch together, calculating. _What the heck?_ Chanyeol stands up, ready to rant.

            “Most people that have the motivation to attack their devilishly handsome, intelligent Crown Prince,” Baekhyun scoffs, but Chanyeol ignores him and keeps going, “would most likely be illegals. They do not play by the rules. Therefore, I need someone who also doesn’t play by the rules to protect me. Fighting with a sword? I can do that. Fighting while sprinting for my life? Nope.”

            “I see where you’re headed,” Baekhyun says. He understood the difference between proper fights and street brawls. He’s had his fair share of both. He could see why the Prince was concerned about his safety; royalty was always a primary target of assassins and bandits. Still, Baekhyun had doubts.

            “Of course, you’d have to be by my side 24/7. You shall be paid handsomely; all debts will be taken care of. If you have any injuries, you shall be treated at the hospital on the palace’s tabs. Your weaponry, clothes, and living quarters will all be taken care of,” Chanyeol pauses, waiting for Baekhyun to respond.

            “What about my friends?” Baekhyun asks in a whisper. Jongdae was fine; he was an adviser’s son, for heaven’s sake. Sehun was currently the top model and actor with the highest grossing films. It was Minseok he worried about. Minseok had given him all of this, he couldn’t just leave Minseok there, could he?

            “What friends?” Chanyeol says. He flinches, he hadn’t meant to make it sound mocking, but he needed to know. It doesn’t affect Baekhyun’s composition.

            “Well…I have a friend…he’s a decent fighter too…probably even better than me…” Baekhyun says, trying to talk in circles., but Chanyeol’s too quick for that.

            “You mean your trainer? How old is he?” Chanyeol asks.

            “He’s twenty-three,” Baekhyun says. Chanyeol shrugs.

            “I’ll think it over,” Chanyeol says. Baekhyun can’t help but feel a little guilty towards Minseok.

            “I accept, under three conditions,” Baekhyun says finally, snapping Chanyeol out of his daze. Chanyeol sits down across from him, clasping his hands in front of him, waiting for him to speak.

            “First, you clear my name and my records, so I can go back to using my real name,” A nod from the Prince. Baekhyun goes on.

            “Second, I don’t have to call you ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Prince’, because that’s a waste of my breath. We both know I’m not the prince here,” Baekhyun says. This one was a little bold, but Chanyeol nods regardless.

            “Lastly, I want you to find out what happened to Heechul and Soomin Byun,” _I want to know if your family killed mine._ Suddenly the locket around his neck feels cold and heavy.

 Chanyeol nods. He can’t help but exhale. Baekhyun accepted. Good. Baekhyun sits there, fiddling with his thumbs. He doesn’t know what he’s just gotten himself into. There’s nothing that a Prince would have to handle personally, right?

 “Let’s go see your skills,” Chanyeol suddenly says, standing up and gesturing for Baekhyun to follow him. Together, they descend the stairs, and Chanyeol nods at the servant girl to clean up. Chanyeol leads Baekhyun through the courtyard and to a large building. It’s two stories, with the lower being stables, and the second one containing state-of-the-art technology. Of what, Baekhyun knew not of, just that the windows were tainted so one could see out, but could not see in. Chanyeol leads him around the stables, and they climb the stairs. They arrive at a long, marbled hallway, it’s floors mirrorlike, reflecting the light from the fluorescent ceiling. Chanyeol starts walking and turns to the third door on his left, pushes the door open, and ushers Baekhyun in. It’s a shooting range. There’s already someone there. Chanyeol lightly taps on her shoulder and she turns, taking off her mufflers. Baekhyun has a sudden feeling creep about him. _Where have I seen her before?_

“Such an early morning to be practicing, don’t you think?” Chanyeol says, trying to make small talk. The girl smiles and bows to him.

“And yet, you’re here as well, Your Highness,” she replies. Chanyeol only smiles, walks to the cabinet, and pulls out a set of goggles and earmuffs, hands one to Baekhyun, and grabs another for himself. The girl’s gun twirls on her finger, a nonchalance about her demeanor, as though she wasn’t holding a weapon in her hands. Chanyeol takes Baekhyun’s wrist, and Baekhyun can’t help but feel a little stirring in his chest as Chanyeol walks him over to the cabinet.

“Pick one,”

“I…I’ve never shot a gun before,” Baekhyun says, a blush creeping up his neck. The girl scoffs and reloads her gun with a precision that seems almost mechanic.

“Here,” Chanyeol says, handing him a smaller pistol. The girl turns back to her target and aims, her arms straight, but elbows not locked.

“Watch Shanhong,” Chanyeol whispers to Baekhyun, “She’s pretty good.” Baekhyun nods, noting everything about the girl—Shanhong. _Shanhong_. It triggers something in his memory, but it’s too cloudy for it to surface. She looks down at the table in from of her, taps it a few times, hits a button, telling the target to move. Her eyes follow the movement easily, and her right hand follows it. One, two, three shots. Above them, the screen on the left displays her movement in slow motion, and the screen on the right shows the target. First bullet hits the target in the 9-point ring, barely a centimeter off the bull’s-eye. Second bullet hits the bull’s-eye, and third bullet goes through the exact hole of the second bullet. Baekhyun’s shocked. _She’s insane._

“Now your turn,” Chanyeol says as she steps away from the table. Baekhyun steps up to the platform while Chanyeol is tapping at the table, which, Baekhyun realizes, is actually a holographic screen. Chanyeol sets the target to unmoving but doesn’t adjust the distance. 40 feet. Baekhyun doesn’t know how to feel.

            “Do...do you have any statistics on the gun,” Baekhyun asks softly. Chanyeol looks at him quizzically, but it’s Shanhong that answers.

            “You’re holding an older model of the Desert Eagle. It’s a simplistic gun. Total weight with one 8-bullet round is approximately 2,000 grams. Barrel length of 25.4 centimeters. Bullet weight of 12 grams with a velocity of 470 meters per second.” Baekhyun’s mind is already reeling in the numbers. He’s already mentally calculating the force that it would have on the target, how and at what angle he’d need to fire. Parametric equations always did him well.

            “Thanks,” he mutters to her. She only nods and takes a step back, giving Baekhyun more space to breathe. He holds the unfamiliar and somewhat heavy weapon in his hand, raises it, and fires. One, two, three, four, five. His arms jerks after each shot, but he steadies hit and fires the sixth shot. His eyes snap up to the screen. He almost doesn’t recognize himself. Despite the goggles, he looks in control, powerful, and very, very scary. Chanyeol’s looking at the right screen, and a low whistle. The first shot hits the outermost ring of the target. Second shot hits the fifth ring and each shot gets closer until the fifth shot and sixth both hit the bull’s-eye. _Not bad._

            “How?” Chanyeol mutters. Chanyeol himself has been training for almost his entire life, but still isn’t as good as someone who claims to have never shot a gun before. Chanyeol’s feeling a bit down.

            “I’m calculating it,” Baekhyun says, placing the gun down on the table, “The velocity of the bullet, the weight of it, factored into the cosine of the angle that I’d need to shoot, then divide it from forty feet,” Chanyeol looks a bit shocked. _Did he do those equations in his head?_ Chanyeol isn’t stupid, he knows how to do those types of problems, but not that quickly, and certainly not in his head.

            “Who _are_ you?” Shanhong says into the silence. Baekhyun starts, forgetting she was there at all.

            “I’m just—”

            “My personal bodyguard,” Chanyeol cuts in. Shanhong smirks. _I’ve seen that somewhere,_ Baekhyun thinks. _Where?_

            “Well, can he fight?” Shanhong asks. Chanyeol stiffens a little.

            “Why, you want to fight him?” Chanyeol says, tone forcibly neutral. He doesn’t like the idea of the ex-assassin getting too close to Baekhyun, but to back down would be showing weakness, and he wasn’t about to in front of the princess-to-be. Luckily, it’s Baekhyun that answers.

            “Sure,” Chanyeol looks at him, eyes asking _Are you sure?_ Baekhyun shrugs. _Why not?_ Shanhong re-racks her gun and heads out, with Baekhyun trailing her. Chanyeol is dumbfounded. _Have they met before?_

 

[Shanhong]

            It’s the guy that gave her déjà vu that one night. There’s no mistaking. She pushes open the door and saunters in as if she owned the place. It was still too early for the Captain to start yelling at people, so the quiet stillness of the mirrored room hummed as she flicked the lights on.

            “I don’t believe we’ve properly met,” Shanhong says, turning around to face Baekhyun, holding a hand out, “I’m Shanhong, fiancée of Prince Yixing of Shanhui.” Baekhyun takes her hand, giving it a firm shake. _She’s a princess?_

            “I’m—” Should he use his real name? “Baekhyun, I just arrived yesterday,”. Shanhong only nods and steps into the middle of the room. Chanyeol decides to take a seat against the wall on the bench, watching their exchange. He watches as they bow to each other and take up a stance.

            “How about we not kill each other?” Shanhong says.

            “Agreed,” He launches the first attack, a simple punch to the stomach, and finds that she blocked it easily, following up with an upper-cut to his jaw. His left arm comes up and parries, and he turns, flinging his foot out to hopefully catch her in the chest. She’s too quick. They spring apart again and take a breath, each judging the other. _She’s fast. She’s quicker than me, but I think I’m stronger._ Baekhyun realizes. Suddenly, a thought hits him, _She’s that girl from the ring a few nights ago._ His mind floods with the fight again. She’s got skill, speed, and she’s decently strong, so what are her weaknesses? Too deep in thought, he almost misses the punch that’s coming for his right temple. He manages to dodge it, but her foot is already where his left leg was moving and he trips over her foot, but recovers quickly, twisting his other leg around in front of him to balance as he delivers a back round-house kick. She flinches before raising her arms up. _She flinches, shutting her eyes for a brief moment._ Baekhyun steps away. _I need to throw some fakes_. He advances this time, throwing a punch to her face. She blocks it, as expected, but doesn’t see the one coming to her stomach. At the same time his fist makes its impact, the wind is knocked out of him form the back. She used his round-house kick to smack his ribs. They both wind up on the floor, breathing hard. Shanhong recovers first.

            “He’s certainly good,” Shanhong says to Chanyeol, holding a hand out for Baekhyun. Chanyeol’s still in shock. _He looks so beautiful when he’s fighting._ He shakes his head to clear the thought.

            “I hoped so,” Chanyeol says, jokingly.


	8. Road Ahead is Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: heavy stuff. Please be prepared to handle some feels. They're not that serious, but it's going to get darker. 
> 
> I did make a reference to another work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11779452  
> I want to give credit where it's due :).

[Baekhyun]

        Later that night, he returns to his room to find three boxes piled up in a corner. He unboxes them, pulling out his clothes and his other belongings, taking special care with a mahogany box that holds the last of his old life. He sits on the bed and opens it carefully. Black and white photos of his parents smile up at him. These photos were from his hacking adventures. He printed these from his parents’ online databases, too poor to pay for color ones, but the videos he saved onto his phone. He’s always felt that he could still touch them through the photos. He has them organized by time, their wedding photo on top, and the last photo of his family at the bottom. He gingerly takes them out, plopping the box on his pillow. Flipping through the photos, he feels a pang in his heart. Nostalgia, for something he never had; a normal childhood. He clutches his locket tightly, the ridges on the back digging into his palm. He gently puts the photos back into the box, taking care not to bend any of them. Groaning, he gets up and starts to put his stuff away. It’s almost midnight when he finally crashes

 

[Chanyeol]

        Another boring council meeting. Nothing’s new, except that Kai and Yixing are present. Trade deals. Always about money. Chanyeol is growing increasingly irritated with them. He pretends not to know that the Minister of Finance is trying to hog more than his share. Kai is sitting back in his chair, obviously unentertained, whereas Yixing is sitting upright in his chair, his eyes alert and occasionally taking notes. Ministers go on and on about metals, food, weapons, anything that can be traded. No one in the room dares utter a word about the illegal trades. All three governments continue to deny that the smuggling of people and narcotics exist. The numbers being thrown around the room are suddenly too much for Chanyeol to keep up.

_Baekhyun would be able to keep up._

         Chanyeol’s heart suddenly stops. Had he really been thinking of his cute guard all this time?

_No. Stop. He’s not that cute._

        He spaces out, and the Minister keeps talking.

_Ok fine, he’s pretty cute._

        Yixing glances at Chanyeol’s spaced out state but decides not to comment.

_His lips are so soft. I wonder what they taste like._

        A sudden, sharp pain in his shin shatters his daydream. He sits bolt upright, glaring at Yixing sitting across from him. Yixing doesn’t look at him, deciding to focus on the screen with numbers.

        After the meeting, Yixing catches up to Chanyeol.

        “What’s wrong?” Yixing asks, his voice gentle.

        “Nothing, I’m thinking about something,” Chanyeol replies before walking away.

        “Or _someone_ ,” Yixing says, smiling to himself, knowing what Shanhong had told him.

        After a week of meetings and talks of money, Chanyeol’s thoroughly worn out. It’s been a cycle of eat, sleep, work, meetings, and trying to see Baekhyun. Yixing and Kai are leaving today, Yixing in the morning and Kai in the afternoon. He has asked them to meet in the courtyard today, so they could bid their goodbyes until next year. The main reason he picked the courtyard and not the meeting office is because since he’s out of the castle, he can bring Baekhyun along. Baekhyun’s presence calms him. He admitted to himself three days ago that he _might_ be a _little_ in love with his guard.

[Baekhyun]

        In the last week, Baekhyun has been through what Shanhong called "cramming for your job and its needs". Basically, for almost eight hours a day, he either ran, shot, and fought, or he was learning etiquette, rankings, and all kinds of fancy shit that Shanhong told him. The other eight were spent either with Chanyeol at meetings or sleeping.  He and Shanhong bonded easily. One thing that sparked his interest was that her Korean was almost perfect. Barely any hint of an accent. She spoke it like it waws her mother tongue. When he asked, she had simply said that she'd studied hard. Baekhyun let it drop. He'd also learned that she was almost eighteen, that she was formerly an assassin, and that she could walk a 4-inch beam with heels. He'd tried, but learned the hard way that heels weren't for him. He was walking so badly with a limp that a guard had asked him if he was "getting frisky with the Prince". Baekhyun had shot him a look and denied it, but the guard didn't look convinced. It wasn't his fault that his job required him to be with the Crown Prince 24/7.  Not that he disliked it. He actually kind of liked the Prince. Not romantically, of course, as he keeps trying to tell himself.

        Trying to keep up with Chanyeol's long-ass legs is difficult. His Highness's walking pace is too fast for Baekhyun's walking pace, but too slow for Baekhyun to jog comfortably. He's uncomfortably power-walking. Oh well, at least he'll have killer thighs and a nice ass. Chanyeol sent him a text telling him to meet him in the kitchen. Luckily, Baekhyun was already there, munching on snacks with Shanhong. She had taken the hint when his phone buzzed and claimed that Yixing probably needs her help with translations.  Now he was trying to keep up with Chanyeol to the courtyard, probably to say goodbye to his friends.

        "Walk slower, Chanyeol, I can't keep up," Baekhyun complains as the distance between grows a bit more.

        "It's not my fault you're short," Chanyeol retorts. Baekhyun fakes a gasp of offence, which has Chanyeol turning around, smirking.

        "Low blow, _Your Highness_ ," Baekhyun mocks.

        "Yeah, low, just like your height," Chanyeol says before continuing to head down the stone path. Baekhyun jogs a bit to keep up.

        Yixing and Shanhong are already sitting on the carved benches. Well, Yixing's sitting on the bench, Shanhong's sitting in his lap, their backs turned to Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Chanyeol and Baekhyun glance at each other, a look of understanding passes between them. They tiptoe behind the couple who has their arms intertwined, faces close.

 

        "HELLO LOVEBIRDS!" Chanyeol shouts. Yixing stands up suddenly, tipping Shanhong onto the grass. She yells out an irate "Hey!" when her ass hits the ground. Yixing's face is turning red, making Chanyeol snicker. Shanhong looks more flustered than he's ever seen her, making Baekhyun snicker. Soon, the four of them turn into a laughing mess. And that's how Prince Kai finds them in the courtyard.

        "So, what's so funny?" Kai says, Kyungsoo trailing him. Kai glances at the group, at Yixing's still-flushed face, Shanhong who's still rubbing her ass to soothe the pain, Chanyeol's smacking the bench from laughing, and Baekhyun who's attention turns to him. When Chanyeol composes himself, he speaks.

        "You're late," Chanyeol says, tapping his watch. Kai scoffs.

        "I had-- _business_ ," Kai mutters. Baekhyun's the only one that notices the doe-eyed boy from Chanyeol's wallpaper, Kyungsoo, they call him, flushing. Kai bounces back quickly, retorting a "You're never on-time either," to Chanyeol. Chanyeol grins and motions for him to sit. He leans against the back of the bench, eyeing the way Chanyeol's soft lips move when he speaks.

        "You're staring," Shanhong whispers in his ear, snapping Baekhyun out of his daze. Shanhong grins knowingly. Baekhyun tries to get his focus back on the conversation, but is once again staring at Chanyeol; this time at his hands. He spaces out again. This time, Chanyeol notices, but only relishes in the attention.

        "It's almost ten o'clock. Shanhong?" Yixing says, once again snapping Baekhyun out of his daze when the prince stands. The others follow, and too soon, Yixing and Shanhong are gone. Four hours later, Kai and Kyungsoo leave. Left alone with Chanyeol, Baekhyun suddenly feels very conscious of his presence. Chanyeol's still sitting in his office at his desk, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to figure out which tariffs would be most beneficial.  

        "That's it, I'm so tired." Chanyeol says, tossing the file back on his desk. Baekhyun glances up from his post behind him.

        "Baek, what time is it?"

        "Quarter past nine, Yeol," The nicknames had simply just _happened_. Baekhyun guessed that this is what happens when people know each other well.

        "Why won't this work?" Chanyeol grumbles, twirling his pen and looking back at the paper littered with cross-outs and X's. Baekhyun leans over.

        "Do you mind?" Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol shakes his head, and Baekhyun picks up the paper. It's an seasonal report of the stock market. Winter was particularly harsh on the market, but spring had melted away some of the troughs in the charts. The numbers start to pop out to him. He takes this in, letting his mind do all the work. He learned from his parents to "take in the whole picture, and not just one part". It's easier said than done.

[Chanyeol]

        He's been shamelessly eyeing Baekhyun for the past minute, enjoying the way Baekhyun's eyebrows knit together, focusing on the paper. Chanyeol's just about to prove his own intelligence when Baekhyun leans over, picks up his pen, and starts to frantically write on a blank page.

_His fingers are so pretty. He could be doing something else with them._

        "Here," Baekhyun says after three minutes. Chanyeol perks up. Baekhyun's written a bulleted plan. Chanyeol scans it over, unable to read some parts because of the mess of handwriting.

        "First, you can't put tariffs on goods from Seolim or Shanhui, because that'll ruin your political relationships, as well as your friendship with Princes Kai and Yixing," Baekhyun says, crossing out one of Chanyeol's handwritten lines. Chanyeol nods in agreement, encouraging Baekhyun to continue.

        "Secondly, you shouldn't put a tax on essential things, like food. Sure, that generates more revenue, but you need to put the people before the money," Baekhyun says, crossing out another line. Chanyeol's already seeing the flaws of his own plan.

        "Shift the tariff on products that non-essential," Baekhyun says, pen hovering in the air as he tries to think. Chanyeol picks another pen up.

        "Remove the one on printed media," Chanyeol says, more to himself than Baekhyun, "and place it on entertainment media,". Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol. _He's picking it up fast._

        "And finally--" Chanyeol says, glancing at the paper again, "add one to luxury cars. Great!" Chanyeol tosses his pen back onto the desk.

        "Nice job, Yeol!" Baekhyun says, glancing at the percentages Chanyeol has written. He runs the numbers in his head. Not bad.

        Chanyeol grabs another sheet of paper and begins to copy the points down. Baekhyun retreats back to his post behind Chanyeol, watching Chanyeol's long fingers scribble out their plan. When Chanyeol's done with a draft of his proposition, it's ten o'clock. Chanyeol gets up and bids Baekhyun good night before heading up to his room.

        When Baekhyun reaches his room, he takes a shower and changes into nightclothes. His phone buzzes suddenly. It's a text from Chanyeol.

        "I have your file. Come anytime," it reads. Baekhyun's stomach stirs. The file he'd requested regarding his parents. He throws on shoes and a cloak, heading for the door. Chanyeol had requested someone to fix the door so that it wouldn't lock from the outside anymore. Baekhyun heads towards the Central Palace. He freezes. _Oh, shit_. The doors to the Central are always locked from eleven to five each night. Chanyeol should know this. He probably didn't intend for Baekhyun to come right away.

        Baekhyun's legs are cold. The cloak covers his back and shoulders, leaving his legs covered only in the cotton of his pajamas. East Tower where Baekhyun stays doesn't get locked. His mind races, trying to recall the map from the folders that Chanyeol had given him in the days after accepting the job. He knows where Chanyeol's room is; the one with the balcony he'd eaten breakfast at when Chanyeol had given him the offer. That was in the Central courtyard. _Got it._

        Baekhyun pulls the cloak tighter around himself before heading out, his feet squishing slightly in the mud of spring. Despite it being late spring, the nights still got chilly. This one in particular happened to be windy and rainy, but Baekhyun really really wanted to see that file, so despite having just showered, his cloak was drenched by the time he'd reached the fence between East Tower and the Central Courtyard. Twenty-foot tall iron fence, vertical bars, absolutely no gripping in this rain. Baekhyun groans. He was going to see that file no matter what tonight. He glances around and spots a pine tree.

        The top of the pine tree is a good seven feet taller than the fence, but the most important part is that the tree is close to the fence. The needles are so dense that most of the tree and the fence covered by the tree are still dry. Baekhyun climbs the tree easily, going as high as he can without falling, pricking himself on the needles. When the branches start to snap under his feet, he glances back down to the ground. He's about fifteen feet up. From here, if he can launch himself perfectly from the tree, he should be able to grab the top of the fence where the bar runs horizontally. If not, he was going to plummet fifteen feet into cold mud. He decides to take his chances. He jumps, and his hands manage to grab hold of the bar. He silently thanks Shanhong's training drills as he effortlessly pulls himself up using his arms. He flips a knee up the fence, and lays flat on top, balancing precautionary on the top, trying to catch his breath. The ground is twenty-feet away. He doesn't want to jump that. He takes off his cloak, he was drenched anyway. He grabs it with both hands. Using the cloak as a barrier between his hands and the metal, he slides down the fence, landing a little too hard on his left ankle. Wincing, he trudges over to the brightly lit balcony and the white staircase.

 

[Chanyeol]

        Chanyeol had just finished his shower and was walking out in his robe when he heard something banging on the glass doors of his balcony. Upon closer look, he realized...it was _someone_.

 

        “Wh--what?” Chanyeol sputtered. Disbelief washed over his face while Baekhyun stood awkwardly in the rain.

        “Are you gonna let me in or am I gonna freeze?” Baekhyun groaned. Chanyeol snapped out of his daze and jumped aside to let the shivering Baekhyun in.

        “How?” Chanyeol manages once Baekhyun had invited himself into his bathroom for a towel. Chanyeol tries not to glance at the wet shirt, catching a glimpse of a toned stomach through it. Baekhyun turns around and Chanyeol looks away.

        “You mean how did I get here, or how my abs are fit as ever?”

        Chanyeol gulped. He wanted to know more about the abs, but…

        “How did you make it to my window?”

        "Heighten your security," Baekhyun says, shrugging. Chanyeol makes a mental note to do that in the morning. Baekhyun starts to rummage through his drawers, grabbing a white tee and a pair of cotton pants before slamming the bathroom door shut.

        Chanyeol’s heart was going crazy. _Baekhyun_ is in _his room. Changing._ His mind starts to spin with inappropriate images of what he and the cute male could be doing. He pinches himself to make his brain stop, just as Baekhyun walks out of the bathroom _wearing his clothes_. Holy shit did Baekhyun look good in something so simple. Chanyeol clears his throat uncomfortably as Baekhyun flops himself down on Chanyeol’s bed.

        Chanyeol gets up from his spot on the bed, heading to the desk to grab the file. It’s still sealed, Chanyeol hadn’t bothered to look at it since Jongdae handed it to him earlier. He hands it to Baekhyun, who stares at it unbelievingly. Chanyeol stands awkwardly off to the side, not wanting to intrude, but also too curious.

        “You can view it with me,” Baekhyun says. To Baekhyun, there is no one he’d trust more with this, other than maybe Jongdae, Minseok, and Sehun. Chanyeol had helped him so much these weeks, and they were comfortable around each other.

        Chanyeol gingerly sits down next to Baekhyun, who has sat himself upright. His slender fingers shake as they break the wax seal, folding over the flap and pulling out the papers.

 

[Baekhyun]

        He can’t stop himself from shaking as he reads it over. Heechul and Soomin Byun were indeed murdered. Murdered for attempting to rebel. Their money and wealth taken from them by---

        “The royal family,” both Chanyeol and Baekhyun whisper at the same time. Baekhyun had half-expected this, but it hurt to confirm it. Chanyeol, on the other hand, was staring at the paper, utter disbelief on his face. His parents had killed a family. Attempted to kill a family with children. Chanyeol opens his mouth to apologize, but Baekhyun cuts across him.

        “I expected this to happen, Yeol,” Baekhyun says, voice breaking as the first tear makes its way down his rosy cheeks. Chanyeol’s still frozen in shock, but he feels Baekhyun bury his face into his chest. Chanyeol has so many questions.

        “Why don’t you hate me?” Chanyeol whispered, curious. Baekhyun doesn’t stir.

        “Because if my parents actually--hic--did want to rebel, then you should hate me too,” Baekhyun says, voice still soft as the front of Chanyeol’s robe becomes wet with salty tears.

        “I don’t hate you,” Chanyeol says to Baekhyun. He still doesn’t understand what Baekhyun’s getting at.

        “I don’t hate you either,” Baekhyun says, “It’s because--hic--because if I should hate you--hic--for the murder of my family, then you should--hic--hate me for being the last of the--hic--family that tried to--hic--rebel,”

        It was so simple when Baekhyun said it. Chanyeol continues to flip through the pages of the report with Baekhyun crying into his chest. He gets to the last page and finds something strange.

        “Baek,” Chanyeol says, nudging the smaller. Baekhyun takes a deep breath and looks up. His tear-filled eyes make Chanyeol's heart wrench in pain. Chanyeol hands him the paper, and Baekhyun eyes it warily.

        “There were only two adult bodies from the fire,” Chanyeol says, summarizing the report for him, “You said that you had--have--two sisters. That means that there are five in your family. If you and your older sister made it out alive, but your parents died that means--”

        “My little sister is alive”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get interesting! I hope you enjoy this so far! The chapters are going to get increasingly longer from here, with more events happening along the way. Please do tell me if there are plot holes, I hate proof-reading my work, so I usually just skim it and hope my English holds out well enough. :3
> 
> EDIT: I realized that there was a major plot-hole surrounding Baekhyun's locket. I've changed it from chapter 2. Sorry about that :D


	9. You Got Me Flying Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chiller chapter (with some heavy stuff at the end), because I was so happy that Lay's in Korea and Sehun showed up to the CBX fansign. OT9 as I live and breathe. 
> 
> Next Update: May 9 or May 10
> 
> WARNING: Rape is mentioned.
> 
> Ok, Helena out.

[Minseok]

         “Where are we?” Minseok asks, eyes taking in the mansion and the ornate, white fence. Jongdae grins at him and hops out of the driver’s seat. Jongdae bounces up to the gates and swipes his card. Minseok stands in shock as the beautiful arch’s doors swing open slowly. Jongdae smirks at Minseok’s wordless shock, mockingly bowing to him.

        “Welcome to my humble home,” Jondae says.

        “You...live here?” Minseok asks. He can’t believe that the annoying but cute kid he dealt with is actually rich. The Jongdae he knew always raided his fridge, eating anything and everything. This Jongdae, the one that’s waving to multi-million dollar mansion, makes Minseok dumb with awe.

        “Yes, believe it or not, Kim Jongdae is actually rich as fuck. Now, are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna go in?” Jongdae says, sarcasm lacing his tone. Minseok snaps out of his thoughts and marches in.

        Jongdae walks Minseok straight to the third floor. When he arrives at a set of heavy wooden doors, Jongdae knocks.

        “Enter,” a tired voice answers. Jongdae pushes open the door. His father sits at the large desk, rubbing his eyes, stacks of paperwork in front of him. Jongdae bows to his father, and Minseok does the same.

        “This is Kim Minseok,” Jongdae says to his father, who walks around the desk to shake Minseok’s hand. It wasn’t everyday that Jongdae brought home a friend. If Jongdae brought someone home, it meant that the person meant a lot to him. So far, he’s only ever met Sehun and Baekhyun.

        “Nice to meet you, Minseok.”

        “Nice to meet you too, sir.” Minseok doesn’t know where he stands, so he’s trying to be as polite as possible.

        “How do you know Jongdae?” Advisor Kim asks. Minseok opens his mouth, about to speak, but Jongdae cuts across him.

        “He’s my boyfriend.”

        Both Mr. Kim and Minseok stare at Jongdae.

        “Or...prospective boyfriend, same thing.” Jongdae amends, absolutely no shame in his voice. Mr. Kim gives Minseok a once-over. Minseok is suddenly conscious of his ragtag clothes, worn sneakers, and unkempt hair. It wasn’t his fault that Jongdae had called him at 6 AM that morning to yell in his ear that he was outside his house and that Minseok better “hurry his ass up or there’s gonna be a dick in it”. Eventful morning.

        Mr. Kim doesn’t say anything, only nods. Jongdae takes this as a sign to leave, grabbing Minseok’s hand before bowing out. As soon as they’re down the hall, Minseok whirls on him.

        “What was that for?” Minseok’s voice is angry and low, and boy, did that turn Jongdae on.

        “Why not? How else would he let you stay in the house without being suspicious?” Jongdae says, prying his hand away from Minseok’s death grip, rubbing at the bruising skin.

        “What--What do you mean, staying in the house?” Minseok asks, voice wavering. Jongdae rolls his eyes.

        “Because I might have caught feelings for you.” Jongdae says, almost matter-of-factly, “Also because, Baekhyun wants to see you.”

        “You...is this a confession, Jongdae?” Minseok’s anger evaporates as he takes in the large, glimmering eyes of the younger. Minseok’s heart flutters a little, but he refuses to give in to the cute pout.

        “Can...can we give it a bit of time?” Minseok asks, suddenly nervous in his own skin. He won’t deny that Jongdae makes his heart flutter, but maybe the younger was taking oversized steps.

        “Great! Meet me tomorrow morning at 8 in the kitchen. Don’t eat breakfast,” Jongdae says before hopping up to the fourth floor to his room, leaving a wide-eyed Minseok in the hallway.

 

        After tracking down a servant to ask where the kitchen is, Minseok’s wide awake and dressed in the clothes he found in the closet. A white, loose-fitting tee and black jeans that are tight to show off his legs, but not too tight as to restrict mobility. His worn sneakers on his feet, hair slicked back. When the grandfather clock strikes eight, Jongdae pops his head into the door of the kitchen.

        “Gooooooood morning sweetheart!” Jongdae says, voice unnecessarily loud. Minseok flinches.

        “Hey Jongdae” Minseok says as the younger steps into the kitchen. Jongdae’s dressed in a black shirt with a black leather jacket and ripped jeans that flaunt his thighs. _Damn, them thighs._ Minseok pinches himself. _Stop thinking about Jongdae’s ass._

        “Ready to see Baekhyun?” Jongdae grabs Minseok’s hand, pulling him towards the door where they’d entered the night before. Jongdae slides into the driver side of his sports car, motions for Minseok to join him, then guns the engine. Minseok’s hands fly to the handles when Jongdae peels out of the driveway, speedometer almost hitting 90 as the car travels through the lawn and through the gate. Once they’re out on the main street, Jongdae slows down the car considerably.

        “Why do you drive like there’s no tomorrow?” Minseok asks after catching his breath, watching the rich sector through the window. Jongdae laughs.

        “If I don’t make my Ferrari run, then what’s the point of buying it, then paying for my dad’s boat to bring it from Italy, then flaunting it off to impress you?”

        “Impress me? I could have _died,_ Jongdae,”

        “Nah, you wouldn’t have. I’m a careful driver. I only drive recklessly in my estate. Once we are where there’s more people, I slow down, because I don’t want to hurt others.”

        “Least you’ve got some decency,” Minseok mutters before unclenching his hands from the handles and doors. The rest of the drive is quiet, with Jongdae occasionally humming along to the radio. After fifteen minutes, Jongdae pulls into a high-end restaurant.

        “You still haven’t eaten, and neither have I, so let’s eat,” Jongdae explains, grabbing his keys and wallet before heading out. Minseok is still in awe at the restaurant. Jongdae could have just taken him to a coffee shop, but he was looking up at the bright sign reading _Red Velvet._

        Jongdae walks into the restaurant like he owns it. _He might, I don’t know_. Minseok thinks as Jongdae greets the hostess.

        “Mr. Kim, please,” the hostess motions to a room in the back. Minseok raises his eyebrows at Jongdae when the hostess leaves.

        “Mr. Kim? Should I call you that too?” Minseok jokes. Jongdae winces.

        “I hate that, it makes me sound like my father,” Jongdae replies. Minseok senses tension, and lets the topic drop.

        “Come here often? They seem to know you.” Minseok comments.

        “Yeah, my friend and I joint own this place,” Jongdae replies. Minseok isn’t even surprised at this point.

        “May I ask whom?”

        “Watch movies often?”

        “When I can”

        “Then you must know Oh Sehun,”

        “Oh Sehun? He’s your friend?” Minseok is in shock, “Oh my GOD! Jongdae you _have to_ get me an autograph from him. He’s so talented! I’m such a fan,”. Jongdae laughs, whipping out his phone and texting someone.

 

        Fifteen minutes later, Sehun steps into the room with Jongdae and Minseok. _Holy shit._ Minseok’s brain goes into fanboy mode. His idol, right in front of him.

        “You’re late, Sehun. I said meet me here at 8:30, and it’s almost 9.” Jongdae says, hugging the actor despite his words.

        “Well, sorry that my manager wanted to give me shit about cancelling today. No way was I gonna miss out on seeing Baekhyun,”

        “You know Baekhyun?” Minseok asks. Sehun glances over at the elder.

        “Kim Minseok? Nice to meet you. I’m-”

        “Oh Sehun, the one and only,” Minseok finishes, shaking his outstretched hand. _Don’t be such a fanboy. Don’t do it. Nope. Nope._

        “Baekhyun, Sehun, and I were best friends in school,” Jongdae says, waving a waitress over.

        “He is the smartest person I know,” Sehun says, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Jongdae. Minseok does the same, anxiously twirling his thumbs. Jongdae’s phone lights up with a notification.

 

 **Math Genius:** _Almost there. Sneaking out was harder than he thought._

 

        “They’re on their way!” Jongdae calls out happily. Sehun and Minseok look up.

        “ _T_ _hey’re?!”_ Sehun and Minseok ask in unison. Jongdae looks at them for a second.

        “Oh, did I not tell you. Baekhyun became Prince Chanyeol’s personal guard?”

        “No, you did not, Jongdae. I deserve to know this,” Sehun said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at Jongdae, who only shrugs, unbothered.

        Minseok feels super awkward. For Pete’s sake, last time he saw Baekhyun, he was being cuffed away by the Royal Guard, and now he’s one of them? How did Minseok wind up here? Oh, right. That little asshole named Kim Jongdae “just happened” to know where Baekhyun lives, then dragged Minseok to Baekhyun’s sister. Then, Jongdae drove Minseok back to his house. A week later, Jongdae calls Minseok up at 6 AM, threatening him. Wow, what a week for Minseok.

 

[Baekhyun]

        Chanyeol’s hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly. _He must not drive often._ Better than Baekhyun, who hasn’t sat in a car as a free man since he was ten.

        Last night, after Baekhyun and Chanyeol discovered the truth, Baekhyun had been too emotionally worn out and tired to go back to his own room. He fell asleep crying on Chanyeol’s chest, mourning the loss of his parents. This morning, he woke up to Chanyeol talking on the phone. Baekhyun woke up _on Chanyeol’s bed._ Where had Chanyeol slept? Baekhyun didn’t know. Even from his spot on Chanyeol’s bed, he could hear Jongdae’s whining.

        “Sorry Jongdae, I didn’t want to wake him up,” Chanyeol says into his phone.

        “It’s because you like him, now hurry up, Minseok and I are already here!” Jongdae’s whining comes from the phone, loud and clear.

        “Jongdae! No, I don’t! I-”

        “Get your asses to _Red Velvet_ , okay? Pronto.” The call goes dead. Chanyeol sighs and notices Baekhyun rubbing his eyes.

        “You’re awake! Jongdae just called me, we’re gonna head out.” Baekhyun nods, mind still pondering if he heard Jongdae correctly.

 

        Baekhyun’s staring at Chanyeol’s thighs. He won’t even deny it at this point. They’re so _nice. I bet they’re really nice to sit on._ Shit, what? What is he doing? Dammit. Chanyeol’s literally his _boss_ at this point. _But he could be the boss of something else._ What, no. Baekhyun smacks himself in the forehead. Chanyeol looks over at him.

        “You okay?” Chanyeol asks, concern in his voice.

        “Yeah, ‘M fine,” Baekhyun mumbles, trying to keep the blood in his head and not southward.

        “We’re almost there,” Chanyeol says, before pulling into the rich sector. Baekhyun’s hands want to touch Chanyeol’s thighs, but he restrains himself.

 

        Chanyeol pulls on a face mask before heading out of the car. _Makes sense._ They head in, Baekhyun almost getting caught on the fancy rotating glass door. The hostess bows to them and leads them to a room in the back.

        “Minseok? Sehunnie?” Baekhyun can’t believe his eyes. He rushes up the them and hugs them tightly.

        “Long time no see, Baek,” Sehun says after prying himself from Baekhyun’s arms. Sehun turns to the prince and bows.

        “Please, don’t,” Chanyeol says, waving his hand at Sehun, tacitly telling him to rise. Jongdae marches up to Chanyeol, grabs his hand, and leads him out of the room to talk. None of the three notice, still too caught up on catching up.

        “Chan, what are your intentions with Byun Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks, straight to the point.

        “We’re...friends, yeah,” Chanyeol says. Even to himself, he knew he was unconvincing. Jongdae raises an eyebrow at him.

        “Friends, huh?” Jongdae’s eyes fix upon him.

        Chanyeol fidgets a little. Ironic, considering who’s the prince here, but Jongdae and Chanyeol have known each other since they were both in diapers.

        “I should warn you,” Jongdae says, voice low, “Baekhyun’s been in some...tough situations.”

        “What do you mean?”

        “What has he told you about himself? Did he tell you why he’s a fighter?”

        “He said he needed money…”

        “That’s only part of the reason. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, but Baekhyun was almost forced once.”


	10. Can't Lose You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning is just me ranting, If you want to get to the meaty stuff, skip to the [Minseok] part.  
> -Helena

[Chanyeol]

        The anniversary party of his parents’ marriage is always a big one. Mid-June, the festivities for this one are closed, meaning that it is not open to the general public. Chanyeol’s been attending annually for the past twenty-some years, he knows how it runs, but this year, things are different, because there’s someone named Baekhyun with him.

        Increased security in the palace for the entire week leading up to and including the party means more guards, more eyes, and less time with Baekhyun. His parents had surprisingly approved of Baekhyun as Chanyeol’s bodyguard, after going through the background checks and physical tests, eventually saying that Chanyeol needed the second, rational brain to think things through sometimes. Baekhyun had just blushed, thanking the king and queen. Chanyeol denies that his heart fluttered at Baekhyun’s blush. No, he definitely did not feel his heart flutter at the sight of a flustered Baekhyun. Baekhyun had proved himself worthy of the rank, but with the increased security, Baekhyun had gotten swept up in the new rotations, increased guards, and general chaos that parties are known for. Baekhyun’s role was simple; don’t accept any drinks, stick the thin silver wire to test for poison into any food or drink before the prince consumes it, and make sure Chanyeol didn’t have too many drinks. Sounds simple, but Baekhyun also had to keep an eye out. If in case of an emergency, Baekhyun was to drop everything and rush the prince to safety. He had angrily protested this point.

        “I could help! His Highness can take care of himself!” Baekhyun argued, arms crossed. Captain Mason only looked at him and shook his head.

        “The well-being of the Crown Prince Chanyeol and the future of your country is in your hands. We are to have further arguments about this. If anything were to happen to the Crown Prince, you would be the one to blame,” the Captain replied, voice not loud but very commanding. Baekhyun sighed. Take care of the Prince? No problem, he does that everyday now. Not that he needed to be _told_ to watch out for the prince.

        The anniversary was to be a semi-formal event, since formal events were saved for diplomatic relationships and other meetings of significance. Casual events were usually open festivities, such as the Festival of the Moon and the New Year. Open festivities were held in the large park in the central city, appropriately named Park’s Park. Chanyeol rather liked the open events. It was a way for the royals to connect with their people directly. Although the event poses danger to the royals, nothing had ever happened, thanks to the security checks.

        The night before the party, servants and guards alike were running about, making last minute preparations and cooking dishes. Baekhyun had already ran through his drills earlier. Quite frankly, he was thankful that Captain Mason took into account everyone, even the nobility that would be likely attend. He’d composed a list with pictures and names of whom he considered to be “shady people” and distributed it to the lieutenants and the specialists. There were three specialists; one for each member of the royal family. Siwon was the king’s and Amber was the queen’s. Baekhyun was the youngest in attendance, with most people his age being privates or, if they were lucky, a corporal. It didn’t take long for Baekhyun to memorize the drill sequence. It was simple to remember, really. Alarm sounds, locate source of danger, drag Chanyeol’s (probably slightly, if not already, drunk) ass to the nearest safe room. Safe Rooms were stocked with weapons, food, and water, but only in very limited amounts, and stored in the wall that could only be unlocked by a guard’s key. When Mason handed out the keys, Baekhyun expected a fancy key, but what he got was a little piece of shiny steel. Everyone else except the specialists got a black plastic. Mason showed them how to unlock the storage; press the key to the scanner and right hand’s thumb to the fingerprint, simultaneously. Baekhyun decides not to point out how flawed the system is, but he does grudgingly admit that this system does work well. Lastly, Mason hands out earpieces and microphones to the group. A small, blue metal disk stuck behind the left ear and an identical one in red on the collarbone, covered by the uniforms. Baekhyun admired the technology. He makes a mental note to check them out later. He’s already wearing his earpiece and mic, having synced up with the security office hours ago. Now he’s just meandering the halls, trying to note every possible escape route. Baekhyun glances at the clock. Half-past nine. He makes a turn and heads towards Central.

        Three quick knocks, a small pause and two long ones. _Three eighth notes and an eighth rest,_ Chanyeol had said, _then two quarter notes in four-four time._ Baekhyun had rolled his eyes at Chanyeol’s childish antics, but it actually benefited Baekhyun more, since he usually wore his sleeping gear to open the door if it was Chanyeol. Three seconds later, the door opens, and a Chanyeol in his sleepwear appears. Baekhyun’s heart lurches at the messy hair and tired eyes.

        “It’s only nine-thirty, you’re sleeping already?” Baekhyun asks. Usually the prince slept around midnight.

        “And you’re not?” Chanyeol asked, drowsiness creeping in his voice. Oh, how Baekhyun wanted to be there when Chanyeol fell asleep, but alas, a job’s a job.

        “Just making sure you’re alive and well, Yeollie,” Baekhyun says, pretending to check off a task on an imaginary clipboard. Chanyeol grins at him.

        “I could be better,” Chanyeol mutters unconsciously.

        “Your well-being is my duty, Your Highness,” Baekhyun says, suddenly formal. He bows to the Crown Prince. When he looks up, they make eye contact, and both end up doubling over in laughter.

        “Please don’t ever do that again,” Chanyeol mutters, letting Baekhyun in his room.

        “I’ll have to tomorrow,” Baekhyun says, flopping down on the couch. Chanyeol grimaces at the thought.

        “Eww, we have to be formal tomorrow,” Chanyeol laments. They’re so used to each other now that titles are forgotten and nicknames are permanent. Baekhyun shudders at the thought of being caught calling the Crown Prince “Yeollie” through his microphone.

        “Yeah, which means no nicknames, Yeollie, and I have to say ‘Your Ass-ness’ every time I wanna talk,” Baekhyun yawns, stretching his arms up. Chanyeol’s eyes unconsciously wander down to the sliver of skin revealed by the plain t-shirt on the smaller.

        “If you call me ‘Your Ass-ness’ tomorrow, I will have you personally fired,” Chanyeol says, plopping down next to Baekhyun. Baekhyun grins at him, transitioning to talk about more pressing matters.

        “You’re allowed three drinks, max,” Baekhyun says. Chanyeol pouts at this, but does not argue. Baekhyun continues.

        “Before you eat anything, I have to stick this silver into it,” Baekhyun pulls out a glass vial filled with four-inch silver strands. He turns the cap and shakes the bottle, a strand falling into his palm. Baekhyun hands it to Chanyeol, who looks at it curiously.

        “What does it do?” Chanyeol asks. Baekhyun looks at him weirdly.

        “I’m your specialist, shouldn’t your previous one have told you?”

        “Yeah, uh—about that,” Chanyeol says, sitting up and scratching the back of his head.

        “You—didn’t have one?” Baekhyun asks.

        “I was always under my parents’ specialists. Siwon and Amber are very good at what they do,”

        “Makes sense, but why suddenly hire me?”

        “Because—” Chanyeol stops. _Because I think I loved you from the moment we met sixteen and a half years ago._ “You just happened to be there to beat my Captain up. He was there as a scout, honestly,” Chanyeol admitted.

        “I see,” Baekhyun says. The clock tower tolls ten times, and Baekhyun stands up.

        “We need to start practicing formalities, Your Highness,” Baekhyun says, bowing to Chanyeol, “We cannot make a mistake tomorrow.” Chanyeol takes the hint, and stands up straight.

        “You are dismissed, Baek—hyun,” Chanyeol almost forgot, _no nicknames._ Baekhyun smirks at him before turning out the door, knowing that Chanyeol’s eyes were probably on his ass. Hint: they were. Baekhyun had purposefully worn the tight jeans. Power-walking did his ass good.

 

[Minseok]

        “WAKE UP YOU DUMBASS,” Jongdae’s piercing voice sliced through Minseok’s sleep, words bouncing around in his head before he fully comprehends them. Minseok groans and blinks his eyes open. Jongdae is standing over him, face really, _really_ close to Minseok’s. Minseok yells out, and tries to pull away, resulting in their foreheads smashing together. Minseok groans again, rubbing his forehead.

        “Wh—what?” Minseok says, voice sleepy. Jongdae grins at him.

        “Party tonight in the palace. I have to be there. I’m a surveillance-er,” Jongdae says, pulling back the curtains of the guest room. Sunlight floods the medium-sized room, making Minseok groan _again_ when the light hits his face. Jongdae likes that groan, but he'd prefer to hear it somewhere else, and for a different reason. 

        “What’s a surveillance-er,” Minseok mutters, blanket pulled over his head.

        “I just have to stare at the security cam footage and make sure nothing’s fishy. Easy job. If someone goes off the grid, I just push a button and comm them. Something happens? I push another button to communicate with all the lieuts and specs.”

        “Lieuts and specs? Who talks like that?”

        “Someone who’s been doing this for years. Lieutenants and Specialists,” Jongdae says as he wrenches the blanket off of Minseok, who groans.

        “What’s a specialist?”

        “One whose duty is to protect one person at all costs. Like Baekhyun. His one duty is Prince Chanyeol,” Jongdae says, attempting to shove a grumbling Minseok off the bed to make him get up.

        “Hyunnie?” Minseok says, suddenly sitting up. The sudden shift of the mattress and Minseok’s position sends Jongdae tumbling off the bed with a scream. Minseok laughs.

        “Hah! Karma!” Minseok laughs. Jongdae picks himself up from the carpeted floor and dusts off his jacket. That’s when Minseok realizes what Jongdae’s wearing.

        “You’re in uniform,” Minseok comments, noting the blue on Jongdae.

        “Yeah, and so will all the lieuts and specs. Lieutenants wear the white and specs have black ones,” Jongdae says, heading to the door, where he’d hung a freshly-ironed white set behind the door. Minseok stares at the uniform as if it has teeth.

        “I’m not wearing that,” Minseok says, pulling himself out of bed. His words contradicts his actions, hands going up to touch the stiff felt. Jongdae grins at Minseok.

        “You’re coming with me tonight,” Jongdae says, holding out the uniform for Minseok to take. Minseok drops his hands and takes a step back.

        “I’m not a lieut or whatever you said,” Minseok says, shaking his head. Jongdae sighs in exasperation.

        “Have a little fun in life, will you? Sneak into the palace!” Jongdae says, tossing the uniform onto the bed. He can tell Minseok won’t yield at that.

        “And what’s the consequence of that? My head?” Minseok retorts.

        “Erm, maybe a lifetime in prison if you did no harm.”

        “I’d like to live as a free man, thanks, Jongdae.”

        “Ok, fine. I already got you approved with Prince Chanyeol. Your papers came back yesterday, approved. Happy?” Jongdae knew that Minseok wouldn’t be up for sneaking in, so he’d actually gone the legal way—well, not _legal_ legal, but still pretty much 60% legal, which, in Jongdae’s opinion, was pretty good.

        “How? I have no background, no name for myself. What?” Minseok asks, curiosity in his eyes.

        “Simple, I hack my way into the databases, create one, and send it off to Chanyeol.”

        “You—can hack?” At this, Jongdae scoffs.

        “Who do you think taught Baekhyun to use a computer?” Jongdae replies before suddenly sobering up, “I regret teaching him, I’m the reason he was forced to leave his sister’s.” Minseok sits up, Baekhyun’s never talked about this.

        “Years ago, at school, there was a series of bullying. Baekhyun had gotten his revenge by releasing information of the bullies. He hadn’t left any blemishes in the code. A perfect hack. I still admire that to this day. But anyway. The investigators knew I was good at technology, so they’d accused me. I had no way to defend myself. My one defense was that there was no hard evidence against me, but the parents of the bullies had pressured the school to accuse someone, so they did. They’d accused a noble's son. If I was convicted, my father would be dragged down with me. Baekhyun realized that too, so he’d stepped up to save _my_ ass.” Here, Jongdae gets sentimental, “I’m the reason Baekhyun had to change his life.” Tears start to build up from behind his eyes. Minseok stands up and pulls Jongdae close, letting Jongdae cry onto his shoulder.

        “Baekhyun stepped in for you,” Minseok says gently, “He volunteered,”

        “Because—hic—he had no choice,” Jongdae mutters.

        “He’s your friend, of course he would try to save you. That’s what friends are for.”

        “I guess you’re right.” Jongdae says, tears finally rolling to a stop.

 

[Chanyeol]

        The hot noon sun has started to fall from the sky. The light summer wind is pleasant as  Chanyeol sits at his bathroom’s table and mirror. He rarely ever used this table, maybe occasionally throwing some clothes on it. Today, however, the table was littered with various products ranging from hair gels to make-up. He wasn’t sure whom his parents wanted to impress with his looks, but they certainly had put a lot of effort. His stylist and her assistant, a mother-daughter pair, had rubbed lotions into his skin to make it glow smooth, dusting powders to make him glow. Chanyeol’s least favorite part was the eyes. Although the young girl’s hand was steady, Chanyeol was not. His eyelids would flutter shut everytime she tried. In the time she’d done one eye, her mother was already done Chanyeol’s hair. By the time they’d finally finished, Chanyeol’s ass was sore from sitting. The mother-daughter pair gathered their materials and left the room. Baekhyun waltzes in, not even bothering to knock.

        “Wow,” Baekhyun says when he sees Chanyeol. Baekhyun’s in total shock at how good he looks, because _damn_ , that hair makes Chanyeol look so much older and mature. Chanyeol freezes too, too caught up in the eyeliner that Baekhyun is wearing, a bold black line that matched his new uniform. _Damn Baek, you look like a whole meal._ They stare at each other for a moment, before Baekhyun awkwardly coughs.

        “Well, I was told to give you this,” Baekhyun hands Chanyeol a watch. Chanyeol knows the drill. The watch, unlike Baekhyun’s equipment, is a microphone with GPS updating, thanks to Jongdae. Chanyeol fastens it on his left wrist as Baekhyun glues the earpiece behind Chanyeol’s ears.Chanyeol tries not to blush at the gentleness of Baekhyun’s fingers. When their pieces are set up, Baekhyun presses his mic through the uniform, activating the microphone.

        “Your ears are like Yoda’s,” Baekhyun says. His voice comes clear to Chanyeol through his earpiece. All set.

        “Out of all the things you say, you say that?” Chanyeol asks. Baekhyun smiles at Chanyeol with a look that makes his heart twist. Baekhyun checks his watch.

        “Four o’clock. Time to go!”

 

[Jongdae]

        Jongdae can’t keep his eyes on the road when Minseok is sitting next to him. Jongdae loves the way Minseok’s eyes slant upwards, the sun shining on his soft, pink lips. Minseok’s side profile is worth dying for, Jongdae decides, glancing at the elder looking out the window. They’re approaching the palace, but a car cuts them off. A white Aston Martin cuts the blue Ferrari off. Jongdae lets out a string of curses before pulling up to the expensive car and proceeding to yell at the driver before he realizes who it is.

        “Sehun! You bastard!” Jongdae yells across Minseok at the driver of the Aston Martin. Sehun turns his head and grins before flashing Jongdae the finger and flooring the gas, running through the yellow light. Jongdae’s about to chase after him, but the light turns red and Jongdae screeches to a stop.

        “Shit, Jongdae!” Minseok yells, outraged. Jongdae looks at Minseok sheepishly.

        “Sorry, Sehun’s a bastard,”

        “I thought you said you’re a careful driver,”

        “Hehe, about that…” Jongdae says. Then, the light turns green and Jongdae accelerates faster than your author gets fat, and speeds down the highway.

        When Jongdae pulls up the the ballroom gates, he steps out of the car and tosses the keys to the valet. Minseok stumbles out after Jongdae, jogging a little to catch up.

        “Where we headed?” Minseok asks once they’ve been given the pat-down.

        “Yeah, where we going?” a voice asks. Jongdae and Minseok whirl around to see Sehun grinning at them. Jongdae’s the first to recover, scoffing at his friend.

        “I didn’t know they invited cocky-ass bastards to royal parties,” Jongdae says, hands in his hips.

        “Nice uniform, Minseok,” Sehun says, completely ignoring Jongdae, who starts to whine.

        “Ah, why!”

        “Come on, Minseok, let’s go,” Sehun takes Minseok’s arm and proceeds to lead him to through the lobby into the ballroom, from where soft piano music plays. Jongdae takes Minseok’s other arm and tugs him back.

        “No he’s mine,” Jongdae says, a possessive edge creeping into his voice. Minseok is now being tugged in two directions.

        “You guys are going to wrinkle his uniform!” Baekhyun’s sing-song voice comes from the top of the staircase. All three freeze and glance to where Baekhyun and Chanyeol are descending the stairs. Minseok and Sehun bow to Chanyeol while Jongdae runs up to Chanyeol to complain.

        “We gotta go, guys, see ya!” Jongdae says after hugging Chanyeol. Jongdae takes Minseok by the hand and drags him away to the left hallway. Sehun heads with Baekhyun and Chanyeol to the ballroom.

        “Hello?” a voice comes on over Baekhyun’s earpiece. He presses his mic and says hello back.

        “Wow, I’m dealing with _you_ ,” Jongdae’s voice says over the earpiece.

        “Consider yourself blessed,” Baekhyun replies, losing Chanyeol for a second. He sees him near the food, so Baekhyun follows. Chanyeol’s just picked up his wine glass, ready to take a sip when Baekhyun pounces. He slips the silver wire into the wine and waits three seconds, before nodding his head at Chanyeol, who either didn’t notice him or isn’t bothering to look at him. _It’s better this way,_ Baekhyun thinks. His feelings for Chanyeol can’t be reciprocated, so why is he even bothering?

        Six hours later, Baekhyun drags Chanyeol’s drunk ass up the stairs. He understood when the captain had warned about Chanyeol’s inability to handle alcohol, but Chanyeol had five drinks. _Only five_. And here he was, leaning all six feet on himself onto Baekhyun’s tiny frame. The night had just started to set in, the cool wind picking up. Baekhyun fumbles with the door’s lock before giving it a kick.

        “Jongdae, open Chanyeol’s bedroom door for me,” Baekhyun says to the mic.

        “Roger that,” Minseok’s voice comes on through the earpiece.

        “Did Jongdae fall asleep?”

        “Yeah, he did, why else am I here?” Minseok’s voice is a nice, calming remedy to Baekhyun, compared to Jongdae’s incessant whining. The door to Chanyeol’s room slides open and Baekhyun kicks the door in.

        “Baek—?” Chanyeol’s deep voice makes Baekhyun sigh. Baekhyun dumps Chanyeol on his bed, not even bothering to undress him.

        “Yes, Chanyeol?”

        “Don’t—leave me,” Chanyeol’s words make Baekhyun’s heart twist. Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, heading to the bathroom to grab a towel. He wets it with warm water, walks back to Chanyeol, and proceeds to wipe the makeup off of an semi-conscious Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol starts to mutter incoherent words as Baekhyun cleans the foundation off. When he’s done, Baekhyun steps back, admiring Chanyeol’s face, even without makeup. The Crown Prince’s serene face and peaceful look made him look younger, the creases between his eyebrows gone and his soft lips turned slightly upwards. Baekhyun tosses the towel in the bathroom.

        “Can’t—breathe,” Chanyeol mutters. Baekhyun looks at the Armani suit he’s wearing. 

        “There’s no way I’m gonna strip you,” Baekhyun mutters, deciding instead to remove the necklace Chanyeol’s wearing, along with his earrings and the earpiece. He’s just finished unstrapping the watch when Chanyeol starts to cough violently. 

        “Ok, fine, since your lungs are so incapable, I’ll do it,”  _ And have to deal with an awkward boner for the rest of the night.  _ Baekhyun gently unbuttons the suit, not-so-subtly admiring the toned chest through the white shirt that was moist with sweat. Baekhyun groans. Chanyeol won’t be comfortable like this. Baekhyun ends up going to the bathroom for a cold towel and wiping down Chanyeol’s chest before aggressively flipping him over so he could finish taking off the suit and wipe Chanyeol’s back. A now-shirtless Chanyeol groans, somewhat more awake, but still dazed. Baekhyun takes advantage of the semi-conscious state. He rummages the drawers before finding what he needs. Rather, what Chanyeol needs.

        “Go change,”  Baekhyun says, tossing Chanyeol a pair of clean undergarments, practically shoving him to the bathroom. Baekhyun thinks he hear Chanyeol collapse against the door, but a few moments later Chanyeol steps out in nothing but the shirt and boxers, apparently losing the pyjama pants in the bathroom. He promptly collapses onto the bed.

        “Well, guess that’s taken care of,” Baekhyun mutters. He’s about to leave when Chanyeol suddenly says something. 

        “Baek I dink I lub youuu,” Chanyeol’s slurred voice makes Baekhyun freeze. There’s no mistaking the words. Baekhyun decides not to act, despite his heart’s fluttering.

        “Is there something you need, Chan?” Baekhyun tries to keep his voice even, knowing that it won’t matter to Chanyeol, but it matters to himself. 

        “I—can’t lose you,”

 

[Chanyeol]

        He tries to ignore the pounding headache, attempting to sleep through it, but it doesn’t work. Groaning, he shifts in the bed.  _ His  _ bed, Chanyeol realizes. 

        “How the fuck did I get up here?” Chanyeol mutters to himself, trying to sit up and see if there was water by the bedside. There was, but there was also something—someone else.

        “Baek?” The shorter male was sitting beside Chanyeol’s bed, arms folded neatly on the mattress with his head on top. Chanyeol takes a moment to take in Baekhyun’s beauty.  _ Hot damn. _ Chanyeol looks down at himself. He’s not in his suit anymore, that’s a plus, but he’s also not wearing pants. Sure, he’s wearing underwear, but where are his pants? He reaches over Baekhyun for the water to discover that Baekhyun had put painkillers next to the jar. Grateful, Chanyeol shoves two down his throat and a whole glass of water before falling back onto the bed. He tries to piece together what went down last night. 

        He’s not wearing much clothing, so that’s a concern. Baekhyun, on the other hand, is in full uniform. He hadn’t even taken off the earpiece, unlike Chanyeol, who found his jewelry and tech gadgets on the nightstand. Who had undressed him? Based off of the fact that he doesn’t physically feel like shit means that he must have showered. How did he manage  to shower when he can’t even remember how he got to his room?  _ Was it Baek? _ Mixed emotions swell up in his brain. One says,  _ you got undressed. By Baekhyun. And you missed it.  _ The another says,  _ Congrats, idiot. _ The last part says,  _ Did I say anything to him last night? Did I do anything?  _ Shit. Chanyeol’s in the middle of mentally beating himself up when Baekhyun stirs. 

        “Good morning, Baek,” Chanyeol says, a smile creeping up on his face as he watches Baekhyun stretch like a puppy. Baekhyun seems out of it for a few seconds before seemingly remembering where he was. 

        “Yeol, how do you feel?” Baekhyun asks, sleep deepening his voice. 

        “Better. Glad I changed and showered. Thanks for the water and the painkillers, by the way,” 

        “Mmmhmm, good,” Baekhyun stands up, rolling his neck and back out from the soreness. 

        “Did I, uh, say anything last night?” Chanyeol asks sheepishly. Baekhyun’s eyes snap to him, and, for a moment, there’s a conflicting emotion in his eyes.

        “No, you did not. You did say some gibberish about me though,”

        “Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it, okay?” Chanyeol’s heart thuds. Baekhyun turns around, busying himself with the tray. Chanyeol can’t read Baekhyun’s expression.  _ He’s keeping it neutral. _

        “What did I say?” Chanyeol asks. 

        “Nothing of major significance,” Baekhyun says, voice forcibly even. Chanyeol notices, but decides not to comment. 

        “Anything we have to do today?” Chanyeol asks, trying to change the topic. Baekhyun stands up, tray in his hands. 

        “No, you don’t have anything scheduled for today,” Baekhyun answers. Chanyeol nods, unsure of how to react. 

        “You go shower, while I take care of this,” Baekhyun says, walking out with the tray in his hands. Chanyeol takes a deep breath after the door closes. He steps into the bathroom, noting the towels tossed in the basket. One has the remnants of his makeup on it, the other ones smell.

        “Ew, why do they smell sweaty,” Chanyeol mutters to himself. It takes a moment for him to put the pieces together. Shit, not only did Baekhyun undress him, but he also  _ wiped him down?? _ Chanyeol decides not to think on that as he turns on the shower.

        Baekhyun carries the tray back up, but this time it has breakfast on it, big enough for two. Baekhyun figured Chanyeol needed another hour to recover. He set the tray on the nightstand when Chanyeol walks out of the shower, hair wet and clean shirt clinging to his body. Baekhyun doesn’t glance up, not wanting to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. 

        “I’ll be right back,” Baekhyun mutters, wanting to get out of the room to deal with his emotions. He sprints back to his room, shuts the door, and leans against it, knees giving out and sliding down. Chanyeol’s words replay in his head.  _ Don’t leave me. I love you. Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. _ The first tear runs down his cheek unchecked. Baekhyun hurriedly wipes it away. Why does he even care? Does he love Chanyeol back? He’s too busy sorting out his thoughts when there’s a knocking at his door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the party scene that probably should have happened in chapter 8.  
> The uniforms are loosely based on their Overdose suits, but also with influence from a Chinese drama by the name of "Destined to Love You".
> 
> Love y'all.  
> -Helena


	11. I Run To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes Baekhyun a second to start kissing him back, but once they start, there’s no stopping. Their unspoken words are palpable, hanging heavy in the air. 
> 
> This is the last chance in which you are mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to write a smutty scene.

[Baekhyun]

       The knocking becomes incessant, so he finally goes to open the door, hurriedly wiping his tears on the back of his uniform sleeve. Captain Mason looks at his state up and down, but decides not to comment on it.

       “Training room, ten minutes,” Captain says, then leaves. Baekhyun stares at the retreating Captain’s back, wondering what the hell could be happening.

[Chanyeol]

       “You could have told me earlier!” Chanyeol yells. His father doesn’t flinch at Chanyeol’s sudden outburst. The king’s eyes are tired and worn, with heavy bags under them, yet still as strict as ever. His mother remains seated in the chair. Chanyeol paces on the carpet of his father’s study.

       “Son, it was never our intention--” the king begins.

       “Never your intention? Did you ever consider that I may already have an interest in  someone else?” Chanyeol screams, cutting off his father. The silence that follows his declaration makes Chanyeol freeze, mentally going over his words. _Shit, I fucked up._

       “Who, son?” his father asks. Chanyeol doesn’t answer, instead plopping himself down on the chair across his mother. Chanyeol meets his mother’s gaze.

       “Mom, why?” Chanyeol asks, “I really don’t want to marry him. Sure, he’s cute, but I really don’t want to marry some foreign prince just for the sake of it!” At this, his father slams his hand on the mahogany table, sending the pens rattling.

       “It’s not for the sake of it! It would be most beneficial to have ties with a Southern country because of the constant supply of food! Chanyeol, you have to put your people above your own happiness!” Chanyeol flinches at his father’s words. He hasn’t been scolded like this since he broke the painting five years ago.

       “Your engagement party is in two weeks,” his father says, before storming out of the room, leaving a shaken Chanyeol and his mother.

       “Mom, why?” Chanyeol asks again, his voice cracking. He folds his arms on the desk and drops his head onto them. He’s never even met this prince, and they’re supposed to spend the rest of their lives together?

       “Prince Nakamoto Yuta is the perfect person, Chanyeol,” his mother begins. Chanyeol scoffs.

       “Yes, he’s perfect,” Chanyeol spits, “Not only is he three years younger than me, but he’s also barely of age. Not to mention how I’ve also never met him before. I totally don’t see anything wrong with this whole arrangement.” He’s never been this out of control. Luckily, he doesn’t stick around long enough to hear his mother’s reply, the clocks strike twelve, and he bids his mother a curt goodbye as he heads down to his study.

       His phone lights up on the desk. A text message from an unknown number. Chanyeol flicks it on and reads it.

**You know, I’m none too overjoyed**

**at our predicament, either, Prince**

**Chanyeol**

       Chanyeol frowns at the message. Is it Yuta? He doesn’t have time to reply, because another message pops up.

 

**My heart already belongs to another.**

       Chanyeol’s finally found it in himself to move, fingers flying as he replies.

**Who?**

 

**Someone whose**

**beauty is unparalleled.**

 

**You are Prince Nakamoto**

**Yuta, right?**

**Of course**

 

       Chanyeol hesitates a moment. He shouldn’t trust just any random number that claims to be a foreign prince. He needs proof.

**How can I be sure?**

**You could be an impostor.**

**I don’t believe many people**

**know of our arrangement, Chanyeol.**

       Chanyeol picks up on Yuta’s wording. _Arrangement_ rather than _betrothal,_ or _engagement._

 

**Have you ever loved someone?**

**Yes.**

 

       The answer seems to take Yuta off guard, since the younger prince doesn’t reply for a few minutes. Chanyeol isn’t sure why he replied the way he did. It was almost as if his subconscious knew him better than he knew himself.

 

**I’ll strike you a deal.**

 

       Chanyeol pauses. _A deal?_

**Of what nature?**

 

**A compromise.**

       Chanyeol waits, letting the three dots at the bottom wave at him before the long bubble pops up.

**You and I, we play the part,**

**like the good pawns we are.**

**I won’t let anything develop**

**between the two of us,**

**under the pretense that you do**

**the same.**

       It takes Chanyeol a moment to process what Yuta’s saying. It sounds so harsh, but Chanyeol knows it’s true.

 

**I don’t want to become a burden**

**for you and your loved one.**

**I won’t question your intentions.**

**I only wish that you do the same.**

 

       No hesitation on this one. Chanyeol types out his response.

**Agreed.**

 

       A sudden bout of curiosity strikes Chanyeol.

                                          **If you do not mind me** **asking, who?**

 

       A pause.

 

**Sicheng,**

**Third Prince**

**of Shanhui.**

 

[Baekhyun]

       The guardsmen mill about, still with ten minutes before Chanyeol’s due to arrive. Baekhyun's throwing knives at targets, trying to take his mind off of Chanyeol when he overhears about it.

 

       "Did you hear? Apparently His Highness is getting engaged," one guardsman says. Baekhyun's hand freezes mid-throw. _Chanyeol's what?_

       "Yeah, to a foreign prince, too," another replies. Baekhyun schools his features and throws the knife in his hand. It misses its mark.

       "I heard that Prince Yuta is so beautiful that you can't look him in the eye," Captain Mason interjects, glancing at his watch. None of the other three men notice Baekhyun’s discomfort. Baekhyun puts down the remaining knives, his jaw clenched tightly. His hands are shaking. _Why do I even care? It’s not like he’d ever like me anyway. I’m just a stupid guard with a pitiful backstory._

       A bang echos through the floor as the doors fly open. Chanyeol’s presence sends the guards scattering to their positions, forming neat rows by rank. Only Baekhyun is without a spot. His spot is behind Chanyeol, a person he does _not_ want to see right now.

       “I’m going to deliver the shit, then I’m going to complain,” Chanyeol says, formalities out the window. He’s still angry at his parents, but hope had rekindled in his heart after Yuta’s proposition.

       “I’m getting engaged. To Prince Nakamoto Yuta. In two weeks, the rings are exchanged,” Chanyeol huffs out, acrimony obvious. Baekhyun’s features are controlled. _Don’t feel._

       “Time for me to rant,” Chanyeol exclaims, “I didn’t get a fucking choice in that matter, unfortunately. I wish I’d just be able to choose my own path, but apparently that’s not fucking possible.” Chanyeol plops down on one of the benches as the guards shift uncomfortably. Their prince never lost his composure that easily. An awkward silence falls among the men.

       “I’m guessing we’re here to go over safety for the engagement?” Mason breaks the tension awkwardly. Chanyeol nods, not taking his eyes off the ceiling. Baekhyun pushes himself off of the wall and follows Mason to the training room. The guards filter in after them, and Chanyeol picks himself up and follows.

 

[Chanyeol]

       “You need to take your mind off of things, Chanyeol” Mason says, sitting down next to him, watching two of the trainees spar. Chanyeol has been staring at the fights, watching the older ones teach and the younger ones try to absorb the information.

       “Baekhyun!” Mason calls out. Baekhyun stops, in the middle of adjusting the arm of a trainee. He looks up, dark hair falling into his eyes a little. Baekhyun whispers something to the trainee before running up to Mason.

       “Spar him,” Mason says to Baekhyun, nodding at nearby guard. One of the others call the trainees off to watch as Baekhyun and the guard take the ring.

Chanyeol seems to snap out of his daze when the flag whips through the air. His captain has stood up to referee the fight, whipping the flag down. It doesn’t take much for Baekhyun to defeat the guard, just an uppercut, roundhouse, and a fake to the left to send the guard off-balance. Mason shakes his head at the defeated guard as two others drag him away. Baekhyun bounces on his toes, adrenaline rushing.

       “Jaehyun!” Mason barks out. Jaehyun’s one of the newer guards. Mason nods at Baekhyun and Jaehyun gulps, but steps into the ring nonetheless. Chanyeol’s eyes never leave Baekhyun, his agility and speed enchanting the prince.

       The flag cracks the air and Baekhyun’s up. He kicks out at Jaehyun’s chest with his right leg, but Jaehyun blocks it, sending Baekhyun spinning on the left. No hesitation, Baekhyun puts his right leg down and spins around, kicking out with his left leg. Jaehyun ducks under it, aiming a sweep at Baekhyun’s supporting foot. Jaehyun manages to make Baekhyun stumble, but he recovers quickly, his other foot already catching him. Jaehyun straightens when Baekhyun stumbles, sending a fist to his left. Baekhyun sees the fake coming, instead choosing to punch at Jaehyun’s stomach. Jaehyun doubles over, and a shove from Baekhyun sends Jaehyun down.

       “Damn, you’re good,” Jaehyun wheezes as Baekhyun extends a hand to help him up.

       “Practice makes perfect,” Baekhyun says to him, bowing to each other before Jaehyun walks off. Up in the ringmaster’s box, Mason’s discontent is clear. His soldiers should be able to beat someone who was trained in the streets, right?

       “Whoever can beat Baekhyun, I’ll give you a whole week off from cleaning the toilets,” Mason shouts out at the group. Suddenly, there are murmurs, and the vague shape of a line forms with those who dare. Mason glances down at Baekhyun.

       “If you lose, you’ll clean the toilets for a whole _month,”_ Mason warns Baekhyun, who only smiles back at him.

       Chanyeol surveys the challengers. Almost all of them are taller than Baekhyun, with more muscle and range than Baekhyun. He estimates that probably two of the twelve or so could beat Baekhyun. He sits back, watching the love of his life gracefully take down the first one. The second challenger manages to get Baekhyun in the stomach, but he doesn’t even flinch, tripping the guard in the next second. The third one didn’t put up much of a fight, having already lost focus after Baekhyun’s first fake.

       “Looks like no one gets a freebie!” Mason shouts. A renewed morale rushes over the soldiers, and the fourth one fights vigorously, but still unable to beat Baekhyun. When he’s down, Baekhyun signals a time-out.

       “Let a man be thirsty, will ya?” Baekhyun yells up at Mason. Mason smirks down at him.

       “Thirsty for water or thirsty for your lover?” Mason calls back down at Baekhyun. Baekhyun glares and flips him the middle finger before grabbing a water bottle and downing half of it. Confidence renewed, Baekhyun walks back up to the ring and beats the fifth one easily. And the sixth. And the seventh.

       Chanyeol’s restless. None of the guards can beat Baekhyun. Chanyeol feels proud of Baekhyun, but at the same time, his guards should have done better. When the last one is floored, Baekhyun mockingly bows up at Mason. Chanyeol smiles down at his lap, his cheeks flushing at Baekhyun’s smirk.

       “Care to fight?” Baekhyun calls out. Suddenly, all eyes are on Chanyeol.

       “Did you just pick a fight with the prince?” Mason yells down at Baekhyun.

       “Yeah I did, problem?” Baekhyun’s retort come right back at him. Now it’s Mason’s turn to flip Baekhyun off.

       “Prince Chanyeol, will you accept?” Mason’s voice calls. Chanyeol finds himself nodding.

       “Lemme go change first,” Chanyeol says as he bolts for the locker room.

 

[Baekhyun]

       “Chanyeol you already took a whole five minutes!” Baekhyun yells from the training room, knowing full well that Chanyeol, as well as the entire squadron and trainees, could hear, “another minute and you can surrender!”

       “Shut up!” Chanyeol says, storming out of the locker room. Baekhyun lets his eyes roam under the pretense of seizing up his opponent. In reality, Baekhyun is admiring the lines of muscle, the white t-shirt semi see-through. _Stop, he’s engaged._ The sudden thought makes Baekhyun angry. He drains the rest of his water bottle as Chanyeol puts on his sneakers. Baekhyun gives it a vigorous throw towards the trash can, satisfied when the bottle lands neatly into the recycling. Chanyeol steps into the ring, and a sudden sense of anticipation fills the room. Baekhyun suddenly starts to regret picking a fight with the prince. If he wins, he’d make the Crown Prince look bad. If he loses, he’d have to clean the toilets.

       “I really don’t want to clean the toilets,” Baekhyun says to Chanyeol, who stretches out his god-like muscles in front of him. Chanyeol understands that Baekhyun’s going to give it his all.

       “Well, quite frankly, I don’t need to clean the toilets if I lose, but I would feel guilty,” Chanyeol replies, standing up. Baekhyun understands.

       “Speed it up there, lovebirds,” Mason yells. Both Baekhyun and Chanyeol turn to glare at him, and Mason just smiles sweetly back before swishing the flag.

 

       Not only does Chanyeol have a good three or four inches on Baekhyun, but Chanyeol’s also got the distractions. Everytime Chanyeol shifts, his muscles shift with him. _Damn that’s hot._ Baekhyun almost misses the first strike from Chanyeol, a clean punch to the face. Baekhyun barely manages to dodge in time, too distracted by Chanyeol. His eyes snap back up, mind starting to process numbers. A little late in the fight, Baekhyun’s mind is half-distracted, earning him a hard hit to the stomach. Baekhyun’s vision flashes for a second, and then he’s up again. Roundhouse kick, butterfly kick over Chanyeol’s attempt to sweep. It’s clear to Chanyeol that they are evenly matched, perhaps Chanyeol being _slightly_ more likely to win, with his longer range, but he’s much slower than Baekhyun. It’s also clear to Baekhyun that his one advantage is speed, and that Chanyeol’s advantage is his range. Baekhyun throws a fake, but Chanyeol’s one step ahead. Large hands grip Baekhyun’s wrist as Chanyeol steps to the side, pulling Baekhyun off-balance. A yelp escapes Baekhyun as Chanyeol sweeps from under him, sending Baekhyun backwards. Baekhyun puts his other hand on the ground in an attempt to catch himself, but Chanyeol’s quicker, slipping one arm under Baekhyun’s waist. When Baekhyun comes crashing down, he finds himself held by Chanyeol, bridal style. The entire gym is silent when Chanyeol meets his eyes.

       “And that, my dudes, is how you win a fight!” Mason yells out, and the tension breaks as the gym whoops and cheers. Baekhyun's cheeks start to flush. Chanyeol notices and smirks down at him, before dumping Baekhyun onto the ring. Baekhyun yells out indignantly.

 

[Chanyeol]

       “It’s my fucking engagement, can you at least look happy for me?” Chanyeol asks exasperatedly. Baekhyun glares at him as he fixes Chanyeol up with the electronics again.

       “Why would I be happy for you when I’m the one you love?” Baekhyun replies snarky. Chanyeol huffs indignantly. Who would have thought that between the fight and now, they had confessed to each other? Well, it was more Mason’s work than Baekhyun’s or Chanyeol’s, the captain always pairing them up for training and calling Baekhyun out for having goo-goo eyes. Eventually, Chanyeol had gotten the hint and confessed, behind closed doors, obviously.

       “Byun Baekhyun, Specialist, speaking,” Baekhyun says to his mic. Chanyeol doesn’t hear anything, so he must be talking with the control room staff. Chanyeol hears Baekhyun groan as a voice fizzles through his own earpiece.

       “I really don’t want to be stuck with you, but here I am,” Jongdae’s voice comes over the earpiece. Baekhyun scoffs at him. Unbeknownst to Baekhyun, Jongdae connected Chanyeol to their conversation.

       “You know, you’re totally whipped for him,” Jongdae says, as a camera in the wall buzzes a little to turn to Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

       “Shut up! I know, ok?” Baekhyun’s voice comes over the earpiece and from two feet in front of Chanyeol, who is tying his shoes.

       “Baek, is it Jongdae?” Chanyeol asks, faking ignorance. When Baekhyun nods, Chanyeol glances at the camera, sending a knowing smile to it. Jongdae’s cough tells him that Jongdae noticed.

       “Baekhyun, on a scale of one to ten, how whipped are you for Chanyeol?”

       “Eleven, now shut up while I take him down to the Great Hall, will ya?”

       “Is it true that you call him ‘His Royal Ass-ness’ behind his back?” Jongdae pries. Chanyeol dutifully follows Baekhyun, who still doesn’t know he’s eavesdropping on the conversation.

       “Yes, Jongdae, now shut up,” Baekhyun snaps, Jongdae’s faint laughter can be heard.

       “Chanyeol, did you get that?” Jongdae’s voice comes back over. Baekhyun suddenly turns to Chanyeol, his eyes wide.

       “Yes, Jongdae, I did,” Chanyeol replies, eyes staring directly at Baekhyun’s. A blush starts to creep its way up Baekhyun’s slender neck as he presses his lips together.

       “Wow Jongdae, I feel betrayed,” Baekhyun says back over the mic. Jongdae’s cackling can be heard over the earpiece as Baekhyun and Chanyeol make their way to the Great Hall.

 

 _Seriously, could this get any more boring?_ Baekhyun thinks as he stands off to the side of the platform, watching as Chanyeol and the other prince exchange promises that neither of them want. Chanyeol has already told Baekhyun what Prince Yuta said, about putting up the act. Baekhyun was secretly glad that Yuta had already fallen for another, but Baekhyun has yet to meet this “other”.

 

       After the ceremony finishes, the atmosphere shifts to one of a party. Baekhyun follows Chanyeol as he greets the guests with a smiling Prince Yuta on his arm. . Although Yixing did not come, two of his brothers did. Kun, the Second Prince of Shanhui, and Sicheng, the Third Prince.

       “Our brother sends his congratulations. He wishes he could be here, to congratulate you in person, but, alas, state matters are state matters,” Prince Kun says to Chanyeol, bowing before his senior.

       “Tell him I wish him the best in his relationship as well,” Chanyeol nods. His attention was taken by the younger of the two Shanhui princes. Prince Sicheng’s quiet nature highlighted his beautiful features. Chanyeol understands why Yuta would fall in love with him. Yuta stiffens on Chanyeol’s arm when Sicheng looks up at him. Baekhyun stands behind the engaged couple, admiring Prince Yuta’s acting skills, especially when his beloved stands before him, yet he’s on the arm of another man. Prince Yuta says something to Prince Sicheng, who replies.

       “My older brother and I chose to study Common, but Sicheng studied the Southern language in addition to our mother tongue,” Kun explains to the bewildered expression on Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s faces.

       “Your Highness, is it okay if I ask Prince Sicheng for a dance?” Yuta asks Chanyeol, but it is Baekhyun that saves them from awkwardness.

       “You have to dance with Chanyeol first,” Baekhyun whispers to Yuta, who nods, dragging a confused Chanyeol to the floor. The guests leave the floor to the young couple, and Baekhyun stands with the two brothers as Kun explains the situation to Sicheng.

       “ _He has to dance with his betrothed,”_ Kun says to Sicheng, who’s still pouting. Baekhyun pretends not hear, but it’s not like he understands anyway. He moves to stand where he can see the dancing couple.

       “ _He doesn’t love him, why are they together?_ ” Sicheng asks Kun. Kun presses his lips together. How should he explain it so that it doesn’t break Sicheng’s heart?

 _“Politics, dear Sicheng”_ Kun says, “ _I don’t think Prince Chanyeol had a choice either,”_

 _“How can you tell?”_ Sicheng asks. Kun smiles.

       “ _I think Prince Chanyeol is in love with the guard that’s in front of us,”_ Kun says. Sicheng’s eyebrows go up to the man in uniform, his back on the princes.

       “ _How can you tell?”_

       “ _Because Prince Chanyeol wouldn’t stop glancing at him,”_ Kun says to his little brother. Neither prince notices the woman that was standing behind them, listening to their conversation.

 

       When the dance finishes and the guests clap for the young couple, Chanyeol lets go of Yuta’s arm, and Sicheng immediately goes to ask Yuta. Chanyeol takes a seat with a glass of champagne that Baekhyun already deemed safe. Chanyeol continuously glances at the clock, while Baekhyun’s eyes are on the Third Prince of Shanhui and the Prince of the Southern Islands. Chanyeol anxiously waits for the clock to strike so he can escape the publicity. Baekhyun glances down at Chanyeol, finding him nodding off. _He’s probably exhausted_. Baekhyun calls up Jongdae.

       “Jongdae, tell His Majesty that Chanyeol’s appears too tired. I will take him up to his room,” Baekhyun says.

       “Got it,” Minseok replies.

       “Oh, hello Minseok,” Baekhyun says as he slings Chanyeol’s arm over his shoulders.

       “Jongdae went to the bathroom, so I’m here right now,” Minseok explains as Baekhyun leads Chanyeol down the hall. Their departure goes by unnoticed, most of the guests having drunk a little. Baekhyun leads Chanyeol down the hallways, the palace eerily quiet.

 

[Chanyeol]

       His head buzzes a little from the alcohol, but he’s not totally drunk yet. Chanyeol can tell that Baekhyun is worried about him, but he only wants Baekhyun tonight. When Baekhyun leads him into the hallway where his room is, he grabs Baekhyun’s wrist, slamming him against the wall. Baekhyun lets out a soft little gasp as Chanyeol’s body cages him in. Baekhyun’s eyes are met with Chanyeol’s chest, but his eyes slide up to Chanyeol’s, the lust in them making Baekhyun shiver.

       “I want you,” Chanyeol whispers to Baekhyun. He leans down, closer and closer to Baekhyun’s soft lips. Baekhyun’s eyes follow his every move, but he doesn’t push him away. Then, he leans down just a little more, and his lips are touching Baekhyun’s. It takes Baekhyun a second to start kissing him back, but once they start, there’s no stopping. Their unspoken words are palpable, hanging heavy in the air.

_This is the last chance in which you are mine._

       Because tomorrow, Chanyeol and Yuta have to start the facade. Because tomorrow is the day that four hearts will be shattered by those who hold the power. Sicheng’s will break for Yuta, a boy that he cannot have, much like how Baekhyun’s will break for Chanyeol. Yuta’s heart will shrivel and dry, because he cannot be with the one he loves, much like how Chanyeol’s heart will. Perhaps there’s another solution, but it is not what is on Chanyeol’s mind right now. _Baekhyun, Baekhyun,_ his mind chants.

       He pulls away from Baekhyun, letting the smaller gasp for air before he dives in again. _Baekhyun’s lips taste like strawberries._ Chanyeol memorizes the taste, because there will be no next time. He wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s small waist as Baekhyun threads his fingers through his hair. Chanyeol’s arms pick Baekhyun up easily, and he carries him into his bedroom, shutting the door with a kick backwards. Hearing the door click, Chanyeol’s hands leave Baekhyun’s waist to unbutton Baekhyun’s uniform. With careful steps, Chanyeol slowly edges Baekhyun towards the bed, pushing him onto it when Baekhyun’s ankles knock against the wood. Baekhyun inhales sharply at the contact, but Chanyeol doesn’t give him a chance to recover before his hands are busy again, tossing Baekhyun’s shirt aside, admiring the perfect, unblemished skin. Oh how Chanyeol wanted to change that. He puts his forearm beside Baekhyun’s head as Baekhyun puts his hands on Chanyeol’s chest. Chanyeol’s other hand wanders down to the beautifully toned chest beneath him and draws lazy circles around one of Baekhyun’s nipples, making Baekhyun’s back arch up in search of more contact. Chanyeol’s lips make their way down Baekhyun’s neck, kissing and sucking gently at the skin. It’s when Chanyeol’s lips lick at Baekhyun’s nipple that Baekhyun cracks, letting a soft but distinct moan through his lips. He seems to catch his mistake, biting his bottom lip.

       “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” Chanyeol says, voice deep and rich. For some reason, his voice really turns Baekhyun on, and he feels his dick twitching.

       “Chanyeol, shirt—off—please,” Baekhyun gasps. Chanyeol pulls away from him for a second before throwing his suit and silk shirt to the floor. Baekhyun takes this opportunity to unzip Chanyeol’s dress pants and gives his dick a little pat.

       “Don’t you dare,” Chanyeol warns Baekhyun, who looks up innocently, hand still at Chanyeol’s dick. He smiles at the taller before giving the area a brief massage.

       Chanyeol suddenly grabs Baekhyun’s wrists, pushing them into the bed as he brings his leg up between Baekhyun’s thighs. A moan escapes Baekhyun as Chanyeol presses down with his leg, right on Baekhyun’s hardening crotch. _He’s waiting for me._ Baekhyun realizes.

       “Yeol, please,” Baekhyun whispers, too out of breath, “fuck—so good,”. A blush starts to bloom on his cheeks from the shame of begging for Chanyeol’s dick.

       “You sure?” Dammit Chanyeol, why you killing the mood?

       “Please, hurry,” Baekhyun moans again as Chanyeol’s leg presses down on his crotch again. Chanyeol pulls away again to grab the bottle from his bedside table. He unzips Baekhyun’s pants and pulls them down, admiring the toned thighs. He drags a finger along Baekhyun’s leg, making the smaller shiver a bit as they reach the bottom of his boxers. Chanyeol palms Baekhyun’s crotch, his fingers drawing small circles.

       “Look at you, so beautiful when you want to be fucked,” Chanyeol’s dirty talk made Baekhyun harder. Chanyeol notices this and removes his hand. Baekhyun whimpers at the loss.

       “If you want it, say it,” Chanyeol says.

       “I—want you—in me—now,” Baekhyun gasps as Chanyeol begins to pull down his boxers gently, grinning when Baekhyun’s cock finally springs free.

       “Already so hard,” Chanyeol tuts at Baekhyun’s cock, a bead of precum already at the tip. Chanyeol’s fingers wrap about Baekhyun’s sensitive cock, stroking it lazily once, twice. Baekhyun’s back arches off the sheets as a string of soft moans escape his lips, his hands clutched at the sheets.

       “Yeol—you in me—please” Baekhyun begs. Chanyeol smiles.

       “Whatever you want, baby,” Chanyeol flips the cap on the bottle and pours some onto his fingers. Baekhyun seizes the chance to mock him.

       “Wow, what a naughty child,” Baekhyun remarks, eyeing the lube, “So convenient for you to—” Baekhyun’s abruptly cut off with his own scream as Chanyeol shoves the first finger in. Baekhyun tries to hide his flushed face in the pillow, but Chanyeol leans forward, whispering into his ear.

       “Mock me again, I dare you,” Chanyeol says as he twists his finger, hitting Baekhyun’s sweet spot dead-on. Baekhyun lets out a breathy moan when Chanyeol’s fingers massage his walls. He manages to catch his breath enough to make another comment.

       “You’re not an amateur,” Baekhyun notices. Chanyeol’s eyebrow goes up before another finger slips in beside the other, making Baekhyun moan again and again as they scissor him open so rough, yet so gentle. Chanyeol’s pants are still half on, and that fact bothers Baekhyun, but he lacks the strength to argue anymore, a fire starting to broil in the pit of his stomach.

       It’s when Chanyeol’s third finger slips in that Baekhyun feels it. His virgin ass wasn’t going to last long anyway. His hole flutters around Chanyeol’s fingers.

       “Are you about to come?” Chanyeol whispers into Baekhyun’s ear. Too ashamed to speak, Baekhyun just nods. Chanyeol bites his earlobe a little before he replies.

       “Come for me, baby,” That’s all it takes to send Baekhyun over the edge, Chanyeol’s fingers still thrusting through his orgasm. Baekhyun’s vision is clouded, and when his mind reels back, Chanyeol’s already gone. He returns from the bathroom with a warm towel to wipe Baekhyun off. He smiles innocently at Baekhyun.

       “Round two?” Baekhyun asks hopefully.

       “Round two,” Chanyeol says.

 

       The blindfold that covers Baekhyun’s eyes make him hyper-aware of everything Chanyeol’s doing to his body. Each lick at his nipples, each touch at his cock kindles the fire that’s growing again in the pit of his stomach again. He wills himself not to come untouched, but Chanyeol’s only teasing him, rubbing his other hand occasionally at his cock head, smearing the precum all over.

       “Beg me,” Chanyeol whispers. Baekhyun’s about to curse out at Chanyeol, but Chanyeol curls his fingers, sending waves of electricity through Baekhyun’s smaller frame.

       “I—need your cock,” Baekhyun moans as Chanyeol’s fingers pick up speed, “please”. Chanyeol pulls his fingers out, eyes roaming over the wrecked Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s lips are parted in arousal.

       “Are you sure?” Chanyeol’s just stalling. His own crotch hurts from how hard it is, but Baekhyun’s moans are so pretty. Chanyeol grabs one and rolls it down. Don’t be silly, wrap your willy!

       “Yes please I—Ah!” Baekhyun cries out as Chanyeol’s dick is thrust halfway in. Chanyeol didn’t want to hurt him, but Baekhyun _did_ beg for it.

       “Fuck, you feel so good” Chanyeol whispers to Baekhyun as he bottoms out. Baekhyun’s lips are parted in a frozen moan, too busy trying to pull in air. Chanyeol waits for Baekhyun to give him the sign.

       “Move, please”

       And so he does, a slow pace at first, but Baekhyun’s so beautiful. The milky white skin that has started to blossom in pinks and purples from Chanyeol’s lips makes Chanyeol thrust harder, thrusting faster and faster. Baekhyun’s tight heat and clenching makes Chanyeol wild. Baekhyun comes first, with a loud moan. The sudden clench makes Chanyeol come into the condom as well.

       They lie there, the come starting to dry. Chanyeol finds it in himself to move first, pulling out and tying the condom off before tossing it. He grabs another towel and wipes Baekhyun off again. He gently removes the blindfold to find Baekhyun passed out, his face calm and lips still slightly parted. Chanyeol spends half the night staring at him, the way Baekhyun whimpers in his sleep, eventually curling onto Chanyeol for warmth. Chanyeol feels his heart twist.

 

[Baekhyun]

       His wristwatch starts buzzing angrily, shaking Baekhyun from his sleep. He blinks twice at the unfamiliar room, before realizing that it wasn’t unfamiliar. It was _Chanyeol’s._ Holy shit. The events of last night come flooding back into his brain. Baekhyun glances to his left to see a giant puppy curled up on the pillow, his hair mussed and cheek squished against the pillow. _How can a man be so cute, yet fuck like a beast?_

       Baekhyun quickly dresses himself in the clothes from last night, glad they only appeared a bit rumpled and not totally like he’d slept in them. He sprints to his room and changes, before checking in with Mason.

       “Where were you last night?” Mason’s irate voice comes over as soon as the call connects. Baekhyun winces at the captain’s tone. Mason mutters an ‘uh-huh’ over the call.

       “Was it fun?” Mason asks. Baekhyun freezes.

       "How the fuck—?”

       “Cameras.”

       “Oh my god.”

       “I suggest you be more careful, anyone that wasn’t Jongdae would have saw you two. If you want to keep your little affair quiet,”

       “Mason, in all seriousness, fuck off,” Baekhyun groans. Mason laughs light-heartedly.

       “Ok real talk time,” Mason’s tone goes from playful to dead serious in three seconds, a trait that Baekhyun’s admired, “I need you down at training room 2. Stat,”

       “On it,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I'm so lonely. 
> 
> Next update: probably around June 16 or 17, depending on how much I have to study for finals


	12. Among the Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol's world stops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shit chapter, but it's kinda important. Sorry <3
> 
> I'll post again soon.

[Yifan] 

      Yifan watches from the rooftops at the man who’s been wandering the alleyway for the better part of the last hour. He debates whether or not to approach the man. Yifan’s well-known, but he didn’t expect anyone to be able to find him, especially since he’s just rented an apartment. He scales down the roof, landing on a wasted second-floor balcony, gun pointed at the man. He flicks off the saftey, and the sound rings in the empty alleyway. 

      “Name and purpose,” Yifan commands, voice loud enough so that the man can hear. 

      “My name is Kazuko, and I want to negotiate with you,” the man says, voice betraying only a slight bit of emotion. Yifan scoffs before swinging himself over the railing and onto the ground. 

      “I don’t kill children or pregnant women,” Yifan says to the man, putting his gun away. The man, Kazuko looks at him. 

      “I represent a well-off client. She would like you to deal with someone for her,” Kazuko says, voice even. 

      “Hmmm. Depends. How much and who?” Yifan asks, pretending to be disinterested, pulling out a knife and checking his reflection. Kazuko visibly gulps. 

      “Four million,” Kazuko says. Yifan’s interest perks up.  _ Four million? _

      “High profile person, then,” Yifan says. Kazuko nods. 

      “Milady wishes that you kidnap a member of the Royal Guard and bring him to her,” 

_       This dude just keeps getting weirder.  _ Yifan’s done many a job, but never one that involved a specific member of the Royal Guard. 

      “Royal Guard of…?” Yifan asks. 

      “His name is Byun Baekhyun, and he’s Prince Chanyeol of Hanguk’s specialist,” Kazuko says.  Yifan ponders this for a moment before sending the man away, claiming that he’d think on it. 

      Later that night, Yifan lies atop his bed, pondering what the man said.  _ Byun Baekhyun. _ The name rings a bell. A faint one, but he knows he’s heard the name before. He thinks back to when he was part of the clan. Yes, the name was definitely from there. But this Baekhyun is  from Hanguk. He’s this far away in Shanhui, yet he’s heard of the name. Yifan pulls out his phone and searches the name. Nothing. Expected, especially since he’s a Royal personnel. Yifan inputs a bypass, a key that allows him to access the deep web, and searches again. This time, an impressive amount of information is presented about this Baekhyun. 

_       Byun Baekhyun _

_       Age: 21   Status: Alive    _

_       Birthday: 38M, May, 06     Nationality: Hanguk  _

_       Occupation: Specialist of Crown Prince Chanyeol       _

_       Background: Family was killed in a fire. Son of Heechul and Soomin. Father was a Royal Advisor. Mother was a teacher. Two siblings: Byun Mijun (Age: 27   Status: Alive ) and Byun Mina (Deceased at age 6) _

_       NOTES: Mathematical genius, possible IQ of 175+    _

 

      Yes, he’s definitely heard the name somewhere. Strange, he hasn’t been to Hanguk in ten years. How would be know this person if this Baekhyun would have only been eleven? Yifan’s phone warns him of low battery, and he decides that it’s too late to think about this too hard. 

 

[Baekhyun] 

      “What the fuck could you possibly want from me at this ungodly hour?” Baekhyun says as he storms into the training room. It’s barely 07:00, and Captain has already called him over? 

      “Good morning to you too, Baekhyun,” Mason says, emerging from the locker room. One of the newer guards is trailing him. 

      “Baekhyun, this is Jaehyun,” Mason says, gesturing to the boy. Jaehyun takes a tentative step forward and bows to Baekhyun. 

      “Y’all good? Know each other? Great. I’m going back to sleep,” Mason says before bolting out of the room in the general direction of the barracks. What a Captain. 

      “So…” Baekhyun says, waiting for Jaehyun to say something. 

      “Uh...I’m Jaehyun, and I’m supposed to be Prince Yuta’s Specialist?” 

 

[Chanyeol] 

      The bed is so much colder than when he fell asleep. He groans and shifts, limbs searching for a body that wasn’t there. His eyes snap open. Sure enough, Baekhyun wasn’t there. 

      “He probably got up early to do rounds,” Chanyeol mutters to the room, “or maybe went to clean the toilets,”

      A servant knocks on the door and enters with Chanyeol’s breakfast. Chanyeol thanks and dismisses him before trying to find any evidence of an eventful night. Aside from the rumpled sheets and the Baekhyun-shaped depression in his bed, there was no sign of the smaller. A soft knock at the door makes Chanyeol jump up. 

      “Prince Chanyeol?” It’s Yuta. 

      “Hold on, lemme —uh...”Chanyeol’s voice tapers off, embarrassed that he’s still in bed. Luckily, Yuta understands. 

      “No problem, I’ll wait.” With that, Chanyeol scrambles out of bed. 

      “What’s up?” Chanyeol asks as he steps outside his room,fully dressed. Yuta glances down the hall, checking to make sure that there wasn’t anyone in the hallway before taking Chanyeol’s wrist and dragging him to the nearest empty room. 

      “My mother knows,” Yuta says in a hurried voice. Chanyeol’s still confused. 

      “Your mother knows about what?” 

      “About our act,” Yuta replies. Chanyeol’s heart stops. His thoughts automatically travel to Baekhyun. 

      “You or me?” Chanyeol asks. 

      “You, and—Baekhyun,” Yuta says. Chanyeol’s world stops. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments! I'm just a lonely person....with no friends....thanks....


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